Fiery Salvo
by scottishace
Summary: Anakin Skywalker convinced the High Council to let him go to Utapau to kill General Grievous. How will Palpatine adapt to the twist and still turn young Skywalker to the dark side? Disregards some ROTS, such as Anakin's vision and council appointment.
1. Inbound

Fiery Salvo

Chapter 1

Inbound

The narrow wedge of the _Venator_-class Star Destroyer penetrated the swirling blue vortex of hyperspace, surrounded by another four of the kilometre long carriers.

Onboard the lead _Venator, _Obi-Wan Kenobi was standing in the metal walkway that ran between the two crew pits of the Star Destroyer's bridge. His light brown hair was cut short, and his beard was as thick as ever. He wore standard white Jedi robes and a long brown cloak. His lightsaber hung on his belt, shrouded in the shadow caused by the cloak. The clone officers in the crew pits looked up at him in respect, admiration and awe.

Obi-Wan frowned at the blue vortex swirling in front of him. Hyperspace had always fascinated him, and the large viewports of the _Venator's _bridge afforded excellent views. It was a shame that Obi-Wan couldn't enjoy the sight; he would soon be entering battle.

Obi-Wan turned around, looking down the bridge. Further back, there were crew stations dotted along the bridge's walls and three doors, each one guarded by two clone troopers in gouged white armour laced with orange. The door furthest to the left lead into the walkway between the _Venator's _two bridge towers; Obi-Wan was standing in the main command bridge, whereas his former padawan and best friend, Anakin Skywalker, was standing in starfighter bridge command.

Obi-Wan shifted, not entirely comfortable with his mission. He was en route to Utapau, a system in the Outer Rim of the galaxy, a scorching desert planet riddled with cool sink-holes. The military commander of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, General Grievous was apparently hiding there. Obi-Wan remembered his last encounter with Grievous, which hadn't went so well. Grievous's droids had tried shoot his starfighter out of space, shot him to death, battered him, and when none of those worked, Grievous had tried to doom Obi-Wan and Anakin to a fiery death by trapping them into a burning ship plummeting towards Coruscant.

Of course, Anakin had saved him from those fates.

Obi-Wan allowed a half smile to cross his face; Anakin had saved him countless times, and the most memorable suddenly filled Obi-Wan's mind. The time, back on Geonosis, at the onset of the war, Anakin had saved him from Count Dooku, who'd already wounded Obi-Wan and was a second away from finishing him off. Anakin and Obi-Wan had become two halves of the same person, and the person they formed was the greatest warrior, negotiator, rescuer, and pilot ever to live.

Anakin Skywalker, the galaxy-renowned Hero with No Fear smiled confidently, leaning back against a durasteel pillar that separated the starfighter section of the bridge and the bomber section. He flexed his artificial right hand confidently, hearing the servomotors whirr faintly. Anakin looked down at the prosthesis, and frowned. He remembered the day he'd lost his real forearm and hand…

Geonosis…

He felt the white-hot blade of Count Dooku sear through the arm like a vibroblade through hot Bespin spread. The pain had been beyond comprehension. Even the fleshy sizzle as his skin melted stayed with him…

_Cut off the head… _

And he had got Dooku back. He'd fought him across the viewing tower of Grievous's flagship, the _Invisible Hand_. Chairs, tables and even lightsabers had been thrown around by the Force.

And when Obi-Wan had been knocked out...

Anakin had lost it. He'd gone into frenzy as Palpatine encouraged him to fight and kill. Dooku's face had been etched with horror as he realised that Anakin had no intention of sparing him should he lose. And when Anakin had sliced off Dooku's hands, there'd only been a moment of indecision before he'd used both his own and Dooku's blade to behead the Sith aristocrat that had kneeled before him…

_…Lord Vader! Do not hesitate, and show no mercy! _

"What?" Anakin blurted out. A clone turned around and looked at him, surprised and curious. Anakin didn't care. He'd heard a deep, hoarse voice, pleading.

_Don't kill me, please! I'm too weak, don't kill me, help!_

And the march of armoured feet. Thousands of armoured feet!

CT 8311, better known as Jay, stood alone in the eight hundred metre long ventral flight deck that ran along the _Venator's _hull. Mechanics, clone troopers and pilots swarmed around, attending to their tasks. Jay leaned back against the hangar's wall, marvelling at the massive hangar. In starfighter terms alone, the ship carried one hundred and ninety two nimble V-wings, the same amount of the faster and even more manoeuvrable ETA-2s (better known as Jedi Interceptors due to their use by Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi) and thirty six heavy ARC-170 fighter/bombers. That, plus the heavy vehicles and gunships, made the _Venator _a fearsome enemy.

Jay shifted, his white and orange clone armour's plates shifting to allow the movement. He loved the new Phase-II armour given to clones; the old Phase-I model that was used for thirty months after Geonosis had been heavy, unwieldy and under armoured. The Phase-II was the polar opposite, being light, easy to move in and heavily armoured.

The clone trooper picked at a mud patch that he hadn't been able to get off his armour. It was right next to a deep gouge that Jay had gotten when a B2 Super Battle Droid had shot him in the chest. The armour had taken the heavy beam, but Jay had still been knocked out. That was back on Praesitlyn, when Jay had been first given his Phase II. Since then, Jay had downright worshipped the quartermaster who issued it to him; Phase I armour wouldn't have even slowed the blaster bolt down, and Jay would've been dead.

An hour later, a tall officer with short brown hair and sharp features marched into the hangar. Jay looked him up and down. The man wore the standard black uniform of a Republic General, and carried a small DH-17 blaster pistol on his belt. Jay watched in mild interest as the man raised a small round comlink to his lips and spoke. His words, transmitted to hundreds of loudspeakers in the hangar, carried the news that every clone wanted to hear.

"We will be dropping out of hyperspace in thirty standard minutes. Generals Kenobi and Skywalker will recon Utapau whilst we wait for the orders to invade."

And that was that.

Anakin heard the announcement over the ship's loudspeaker.

_At last! The war's all but over! _Anakin smiled and shrugged of his dark cloak, letting it fall to the floor; he wouldn't need it where he was going. He turned around and stepped confidently up to the doorway of the bridge, ready to head for the hangar. He was just a step away from the door when the two Clone Troopers acting as security stepped in front of him.

"General! Chancellor Palpatine requested that you remain in orbit and coordinate the attack!" growled the lead trooper. Anakin frowned.

_Not in this lifetime! _

"I appreciate the thought, but tell him that I will be going with Obi-Wan" Anakin stepped forward, but the clones didn't move.

"Sir, the Chancellor requested–" Anakin interrupted the clone trooper firmly but calmly.

"The Chancellor _requested _that I remain on board. Now I'm _ordering _you to step aside, trooper!" Anakin's calm exterior was the perfect opposite to the rage that bubbled inside him. _I defeated Dooku! And the Chancellor wants me to simply remain on board and let _Obi-Wan _do all the work? After all the time I spent persuading the council to let me come on this mission?_

"Step _aside_," Anakin said again, his anger starting to show through. The clones shifted in indecision.

_"Move!" _Anakin pushed with the Force, and the clones were lifted just an inch of the ground and moved aside, gently but firmly.

Obi-Wan frowned as he stepped into the busy hangar deck, feeling Anakin's anger. But there was no time for that now. He strode forward, cloak billowing, heading towards the green Jedi Interceptor waiting for him just down the hangar.

Obi-Wan continued to walk, looking around the busy hangar bay, hearing the curse of mechanics on a difficult problem, the banter of pilots and the clang of clone's feet on metal. He spotted a clone in familiar armour also walking towards the Jedi Interceptor. Obi-Wan smiled as Commander Cody turned and nodded, his white and orange clone armour covered in upgrades.

Anakin stormed onto the hangar deck, walking quickly and noisily towards the blue Jedi Interceptor prepared for him. Obi-Wan and Commander Cody stood next to it, deep in conversation. Cody had his back to him, so Obi-Wan saw Anakin's bad tempered approach and shot him a reprimanding glance.

"Discussing tactics?" Anakin's voice was forcefully light.

"Yes sir. If you would like to go over the plan again—" Anakin cut him off by raising a hand.

"I know. We land at the main spaceport, and search for Grievous with the Force. If we locate him, we send a transmission up to the fleet, and you come down and you come down and destroy any enemy forces whilst we dismantle Grievous."

It'd all sounded so simple. But, as Anakin and Obi-Wan prepped their fighters for take-off, Anakin contemplated what would happen if Grievous escaped. With the thought, a tiny whisper of fear appeared in his mind…

_Millions will die when the General escapes! And it'll be your fault. Hero with no fear? I think not. _The voice of fear whispered gently into Anakin's ear, its voice quiet but confident.

Too often Anakin would try to prevent the words, only to watch, helpless and horrified, as his fears came to pass in front of his very eyes…

The two Jedi Interceptors gathered speed as they shot towards the yellow planet of Utapau. The star's rays bounced off the sinkhole planet, making the large orb of rock and minerals shine like a star itself.

Anakin and Obi-Wan entered the atmosphere, zooming in fast, noses pointed downwards in a vertical dive that would make anti air lasers useless due to the slow speed of their targeting computers. Obi-Wan knew his destination, and already he could feel several Force presences that were familiar.

The anger and twisted hatred of Grievous, the fear of Nute Gunray and Ruun Hakko, the cool, calculating mind of San Hill, even the warrior's resolve in the Geonosian Poggle the Lesser.

Anakin clamped down on his happy feelings, calling on the Force, allowing rage to seep through his body, making him stronger, near invincible. He knew Grievous was on planet! And soon, the General would be dead.

Obi-Wan and Anakin pulled up, their ships levelling out just a metre above Utapau's baked-flat surface. Their forked fighters manoeuvred deftly above rock formations, kicking up mile-high trails of sand as their ion drives propelled them forward.

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan spoke confidently into his fighter's comlink, submerging himself into the Force, letting go of conscious thought, until his own will merged with the Force. "The sinkhole where grievous is hiding is just two hundred klicks away. One hundred klicks, fifty klicks, twenty-five klicks."

At ten kilometres, Anakin slowed down and half-rolled his tiny fighter until it was upside down. Suddenly, the round and gaping maw of the sinkhole loomed in front of him. He couldn't see into the depths, although he would soon enough.

_Now! _The Force guided Anakin's hand, and he pulled back on the control yoke. His fighter reacted in a nanosecond, diving downwards into the sinkhole.

The sinkhole was about three miles deep, and at the bottom it was covered by water punctuated by sharp rocks. Obi-Wan could just see the city built into the sinkhole's walls; it wasn't technologically advanced compared to Coruscant or Corellia, but it appeared to be able to harbour starships and fighters. Obi-Wan wasn't interested in that; Anakin had convinced him to abandon any subtle means of attack to apprehend Grievous.

"Commander Cody! Commence landing operations in three minutes, mark!"

"Roger that General," A small, blue hued hologram of Commander Cody appeared on top of Obi-Wan's fighter's holoprojector. The clone was armed to the teeth, and ready for battle. "What level of destruction would you like?"

"Military casualties _only!_" stressed Obi-Wan. "And the burden is on me not to destroy all the droids before you arrive."

"Copy."

Anakin looked up at the rough steel sphere built into the sinkhole's side. The building was formerly a Trade Federation Core ship from a _Lucrehulk _classRing carrier. It'd obviously been extensively modified, judging by the fact that there were many openings and hangars in the ship.

Anakin angled his starfighter towards the biggest opening. He could sense the familiar presences of Grievous and a few of the Separatist leaders inside.

"Bleep-dwoo," The little blue and white droid called R2-D2 situated to the left of Anakin's cockpit bleeped.

"What do you mean?" Anakin hadn't been listening.

"BLEEP-DWOO!" screeched Artoo as Anakin accelerated towards the gap.

"Particle shields?" Anakin whispered. If he crashed his ship into particle shields, Anakin would simply disintegrate.

"Anakin! Pull up!" Obi-Wan cried, obviously realising what was happening. But the Force told Anakin it was too late; he'd never pull up in time. So, with a push of the Force, Anakin activated his ejection system.

Obi-Wan watched as R2-D2 was blasted upwards and out of his Astromech socket with a cloud of condensed gas. A nanosecond later, Anakin followed on his ejection seat, flames leaping form the bottom of his seat's rocket propulsion system.

Obi-Wan sighed in relief; for a second it had looked like Anakin was going to die.

_Boom! _Obi-Wan's starfighter rocked as Anakin's fighter detonated on the shields. The small fighter's combustible fuel ignited in a fireball ten metres high. Obi-Wan growled, but felt the particle shield generator stutter and fail, just for a couple of brief seconds after Anakin's fighter exploded.

In those seconds, obi-Wan had accelerated into the core ship, and was now floating just three metres above a stunned and skeletal monstrosity.

In one deft move, Obi-Wan had popped his starfighter's canopy and leapt in front of Grievous.

"Hello there," Obi-Wan said cheerily.


	2. Duelling the General

Chapter 2

Duelling the General

Obi-Wan gazed at his surroundings with mild interest. He was standing in a spherical metal room, crisscrossed above by hundreds of catwalks. Gaps in the floor revealed hundreds of more catwalks down below. Off to Obi-Wan's right, the eight Separatist leaders were sitting at a round conference table, frozen in fear. In the Force, they radiated terror.

Surrounding Obi-Wan and General Grievous, there was a loose ring of perhaps two hundred battle droids; mainly the standard B1 variant, but a few B2 super battle droids and Destroyer Droids stood, blaster ready. And ahead of Master Kenobi, stood a terrifying sight. Tall and gangly, his limbs skeletal but immensely strong, pitted and dirty, General Grievous observed Obi-Wan through his terrifying yellow reptilian eyes. The Kaleesh-style death mask worn by Grievous would've been terrifying to a normal man, maybe even a normal Jedi, but Obi-Wan was no normal Jedi, and Jedi Code swept away any traces of fear.

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

_There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._

_There is no passion, there is serenity._

_There is no chaos, there is harmony._

_There is no death, there is the Force._

With those words in his mind, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master, Council Member, General, negotiator, pilot, and ultimate Jedi shrugged off his brown cloak and spread his hands.

Grievous released a horrible, hacking cough, his body contorting, before speaking in his scratchy and intimidating voice.

"Kill him!"

There were a hundred clicks as priming levers were pulled on blasters, and then the room erupted in flashes of crimson lasers so glaringly bright Obi-Wan closed his eyes to protect his retinas.

The Jedi Master leapt a nanosecond before he would've been disintegrated by hundreds of blaster bolts. He flipped in the air, his lightsaber hilt jumping from his belt to slap into his hand.

_Snap-hiss._

The Jedi Master's blade ignited in a shower of sapphire sparks. The sky blue blade hummed and buzzed as it whizzed through the air, pinging as it deflected hundreds of blaster bolts into the air, to the side, smashing into the ground, walls, and even the droids that fired them.

Obi-Wan landed in a crouch, his blade weaving an impenetrable shield of energy and plasma that deflected lasers back at their owners. In seconds there were crashes of metal and the fizzing sound of lasers destroying droids as the blaster bolts deflected back into the crowd of mechanical soldiers. Obi-Wan leapt again, this time to the side, dodging every bolt that came his way with a deft twist. He landed just in front of a B2 Super Battle Droid, and sliced the droid in half from its right shoulder to its left hip with an upwards swing. He leapt forward, blade spinning and cutting through the air, leaving a scent of ozone behind as it frazzled the air.

He landed and dropped to his hands and one foot, spinning around with his left leg extended and rigid to knock three droids into a hole in the ground, sending them toppling and bouncing off the catwalks below. He regained his feet easily, wading into the crowd of droids, lightsaber spinning and trailing blue fire. The droids were cut like scissors through flimsiplast, falling in pieces as the thirty-eight year old Jedi Master cut them down.

Thirty seconds later, the only droids left were three Destroyer Droids, their skeletal forms shielded and their repeating blasters releasing scourges of plasma. Obi-Wan, deeply rooted in the Force, stood his ground, meeting every blast and deflecting it harmlessly back into the Destroyer Droids' shields.

After a further minute, the Destroyer Droids' shield bubbles were starting to lose their bright blue quality, a sure sign that their shields were beginning to weaken. Now a hard lightsaber swipe would probably penetrate the droids' shields.

Obi-Wan advanced, his blade swinging wildly to deflect the incoming bolts until he was just a metre away from the nearest Destroyer Droid. With a deft swing and flick of his lightsaber, Obi-Wan sliced through the droid's shields and decapitated the bronze droid.

Obi-Wan retreated a step, deflecting bolts coming from the two remaining Destroyer Droids. The battle was dragging on, and the Jedi Master decided to end it. He flicked his hand and summoned the Force, catapulting the Destroyer Droids over his own head and out of the core ship, where they were vaporised by particle shielding.

The Jedi Master turned, robes smoking from near hits, and inclined his head at General Grievous, who stood stunned just ten metres away.

"Jedi slime!" hissed Grievous, advancing a step on his metal claws. "Guards! Slaughter him. Bring me his lightsaber, and his _head."_

Out of nowhere, four tall droids wearing capes leapt, their chests bearing large red photoreceptors, and each of them carrying a long electrostaff.

Obi-Wan smiled and saluted with his blade as the Magnaguards of General Grievous advanced, their electrostaffs fizzing at the end with violet lightning. Obi-Wan had defeated one aboard the _Invisible Hand _with only minor difficulties, and now he knew he could exploit the weaknesses of each of the guard droids effortlessly. Even though a lightsaber couldn't cut an electrostaff, the Jedi Master knew that a blow from an electrostaff wasn't fatal, merely agonising.

The first Magnaguard was advancing when a thunderclap echoed into the room. A second later, the massive green lances of turbolaser fire shot past outside. The core ship shook violently, and the smell of burning wafted up from below where the turbolaser blast had penetrated the core ship's shielding. The invasion had begun! The Magnaguards faltered, obviously seeking instructions from Grievous, and in that second, Obi-Wan pounced.

He pressed the small button his lightsaber's hilt that would keep the blade on even if Obi-Wan let go, and he threw the humming weapon at the Magnaguards.

Using the Force to alter the lightsaber's course, Obi-Wan saw that his blade sliced every Magnaguard, besides one, in half from the top of their heads down to their groins. The Magnaguards were almost finished, and Obi-Wan's lightsaber returned to his hand with a comforting smack.

The last Magnaguard advanced, swinging its electrostaff in wide circles. Obi-Wan rolled forward and then slashed, his lightsaber moving at blinding speeds as it severed the leg of the Magnaguard. The leg fell away, sparking and hissing as it dripped molten metal.

The Magnaguard released a hiss of static, and then balanced on its electrostaff. With a nimble spin, it balanced entirely on the weapon and brought its foot up in an effort to kick Obi-Wan.

The Jedi Master disappeared in a blur as he leapt upwards.

The Magnaguard landed on it one remaining foot, just as Obi-Wan came down with a cry of the Force. The Magnaguard looked up, just as Obi-Wan's lightsaber cut the droid's head from its grey neck. The Magnaguard still wasn't beaten, as it had its chest-mounted photoreceptor, or en 'eye' as it was nicknamed by humans because it did the same job as an eye. The droid whirled its electrostaff towards Obi-Wan's head, but the Jedi Master blocked the blow with his sabre. The droid then reversed his staff's direction, moving backwards just in time to avoid Obi-Wan's thrusting counterattack. The Magnaguard crept forward for the last time, and put all its strength into a hard jab with the weapon, aimed at Obi-Wan's chest. The Jedi whirled out of the way of the stab, and brought his sabre through the Magnaguards back and chest-mounted photoreceptor with a quick stab.

Over the roar of turbolaser fire, Obi-Wan spoke to the General.

"Your move."

The cyborg General screeched, and extended his two spindly arms. He then reached into the dark shadow of his green and red cloak, and his hands came out, each one carrying two lightsabers.

_Click._

The General's arms and hands separated to form four upper appendages. In each three-fingered hand, was a lightsaber. Four _snap-hisses _echoed around the core ship as Grievous activated each sabre.

Two emerald blades and two sapphire blades ignited, dazzling Obi-Wan. Grievous whirled them and then crouched, pointing all four blades straight forward. Grievous then cackled.

"Your lightsaber should've been in my collection long ago. Now, I will take it from your body. I was trained in your Jedi arts by Count Dooku!" Grievous laughed again, and advanced.

"And I trained the man who killed him," replied Obi-Wan. In one quick move, the Jedi Master stepped forward, and met the general's advance.

Grievous's first strikes came from above, striking down on Obi-Wan's blade, which was raised to meet the onslaught. Grievous then swung with one of his blade, coming in from the left, but Obi-Wan dodged it by rolling backwards. The General's swipe was still close enough to singe Obi-Wan's tunic though.

Obi-Wan jumped to his feet just as Grievous launched himself forward, lightsabers a mere blur of colour battering at Obi-Wan's steadfast defence.

Grievous ramped up attack speed until he was making more than twenty attacks per second. Yet Obi-Wan simply blocked and dodged, never moving an inch more than he needed to. Grievous howled in frustration, and continued to attack faster.

Obi-Wan met all four of Grievous's blades at once, and the five lightsabers locked together. Grievous, using his amazing mechanical strength, pushed forward with enough force to bend the armour of a Star Destroyer.

Obi-Wan didn't even flinch.

Backed up by the power of the Force, even a black hole couldn't have shifted the Jedi Master. The Jedi simply stood fast, and eventually began to lean forward, summoning the Force to give him strength.

Grievous's upper right arm, the arm which was applying the most strength, suddenly emitted the metallic wail of stressed metal, bent backwards, and snapped clean off. The emerald lightsaber that had once been held in that hand fell, bouncing away and out of sight. Obi-Wan smiled, and leaned forward again. But the General reacted. He kicked out, planting his sharp claws on Obi-Wan's chest with the intention of ripping out the Jedi Master's rib cage.

Obi-Wan gasped, suddenly in pain as Grievous started to squeeze. Calling upon the Force to reinforce his skin, Obi-Wan felt Grievous's squeeze weaken, but it didn't stop completely.

_Where's Anakin? _Obi-Wan thought, just mildly concerned. If he broke lightsaber connection with the General to free his ribcage, the General's lightsabers would behead the Jedi Master. If Obi-Wan didn't try to free his ribcage, he would die.

_An interesting dilemma, _mused the Jedi Master.

"I will peel the flesh from your bones!" laughed Grievous, realising that Obi-Wan would soon begin to weaken.

"And I'll rip the durasteel from your exoskeleton, droid," said a commanding voice from behind Grievous.

_Anakin! _

_Snap-hiss._

Obi-Wan smiled as he heard Anakin ignite his lightsaber. Grievous's yellow eyes widened in surprise, but he adapted in a second. He pushed with his foot, releasing his clawed grip on the Jedi and sending him flying backwards. Grievous then whirled to face the tall but young man standing before him, holding his blue lightsaber up in a guard.

Anakin leapt forward, his blade moving even faster than Obi-Wan's had. His strong, aggressive style soon had the General of the droid armies retreating, and after a good minute, Obi-Wan returned to the fray, approaching from behind Grievous. The General, caught in between two enemies who outclassed him as warriors, decided to retreat, but not before Anakin claimed one of Grievous's arms. The cyborg whirled and leapt upwards, using his powerful mechanical legs to propel himself upwards and onto a catwalk a good fifty feet above the two Jedi.

"After you, Master," Anakin said; even though he wasn't Obi-Wan's padawan anymore, the younger Jedi Knight still referred to Obi-Wan as master.

"Thank you," said Obi-Wan, and leapt.

"Leave it to a droid to cheat!" bellowed Obi-Wan, seeing Grievous sprint towards a heavily armoured blast door at the end of a catwalk.

"I'm no droid!" shrieked the General, turning around and pulling out his heavy blaster pistol. Obi-Wan smiled inwardly; the taunt had had the desired effect, as Grievous was distracted, leaving Anakin with an opportunity to get behind him.

Anakin leapt onto Grievous's catwalk, a few metres behind the General as he fired at Obi-Wan. Bursting into a sprint, Anakin raised his lightsaber and swung.

The General reacted just in time; he heard Anakin's approach, and hurled himself off the catwalk. Anakin's sabre just missed, cutting a railing instead.

Anakin leapt after Grievous without thinking. The cyborg was falling in a controlled dive, facing downwards with his arms pinned at his sides. Anakin followed, falling with a controlled speed thanks to the Force.

Grievous aimed his descent, and was bang on target. His fall took him through one of the many holes in the metal floor, and he fell another few hundred feet before landing with a clang on a metal walkway. He raced down the wide catwalk, heading towards a tall metal wheel-bike; an exotic vehicle that was basically a large wheel with a driver's seat, an engine and mechanical legs used to ascend or descend on steep surfaces. Anakin knew that the wheel bike moved at a good two hundred miles per hour at maximum speed.

Anakin landed in front of the wheel bike, just as Grievous kicked the black vehicle into forward. The wheel leapt forward, and Anakin jumped out of the way in the last second, barely avoiding a crushing death.

Obi-Wan sighed and jumped after Anakin, switching off his lightsaber but keeping it in his hand. He sensed Grievous and the wheel-bike.

_Oh dear, _Obi-Wan thought as he saw he was going to land directly in front of the wheel-bike.

Obi-Wan landed in a controlled crouch, just as the wheel bike was about to hit him.

Anakin screamed and pushed with the Force. The wheel-bike suddenly bucked, and then flew upwards, just missing Obi-Wan Kenobi.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan said calmly and gratefully.

"Any time, Master."

"Now, did you see where our friend, the General went?" Obi-Wan merely said it to lighten Anakin's dark mood. Obi-Wan could sense Grievous fine and well, racing through the core ship and out into the city built on the walls of the sinkhole, heading for some unknown destination, probably a starfighter or shuttle he would use to escape.

Anakin wrenched out a comlink and keyed in the frequency for Commander Cody.

"Cody! We made contact with Grievous. He's escaping in a wheel bike; order all starfighters to go on alert and shoot down any escaping vessels, and tell the troopers to destroy the wheel-bike at all costs!" bellowed Anakin. Obi-Wan frowned deeply at Anakin's display of anger and rage.

"Cop—" Anakin closed off the comlink before Cody could finish.

"Oh, and, Anakin, did you see where Nute Gunray and his… acquaintances went?" Obi-Wan asked mildly.

"Gunray was here?" Obi-Wan felt hatred well up inside Anakin.

"Yes. Well, he'll probably be captured whilst trying to escape. And mind your feelings Anakin. They will be your downfall if you don't keep them in check."

_I am _not _your padawan any more, _Anakin wanted to scream the words, but instead he muttered "Yes, master," Through his bared teeth.

In truth, Grievous was already at his customised _Bellubab-22 _fighter, and the Separatist leaders had already escaped off planet in a cloaked frigate. Grievous wasn't pained by running from the Jedi, just surprised at the power of Kenobi and Skywalker. He couldn't believe how Kenobi had effortlessly deflected all of his attacks, and how he'd resisted the sharp talons of Grievous's legs. And Skywalker! His blows had been stronger and faster than anything even Grievous could muster, and that was a credible feat as Grievous could lift tons upon tons, and move at a respectable fraction of lightspeed. No wonder the Separatists were losing the war, if people like Kenobi and Skywalker could fight so well. Even Mace Windu, widely regarded as the greatest warrior in the Jedi Order short of Yoda, hadn't even been in the league of Obi-Wan Kenobi, never mind Skywalker. Grievous now firmly believed that Anakin Skywalker was the most powerful warrior alive. It was as if his arms were driven by hyperdrives, given strength by lifter droids. Looking at the arm severed by Skywalker, Grievous wondered how Dooku's training had gone wrong.

How Dooku had gone wrong.

But, truthfully, it wasn't totally unexpected. Grievous, although faster and stronger than Count Dooku, had seldom ever defeated the Sith Lord in training duels, so, after Skywalker killed Dooku, Grievous had considered the possibility that Skywalker would best the cyborg as well. Grievous had dismissed the idea at the time, but now it came back to haunt him.

The cyborg finally stepped out of his wheel bike and hulked towards his large, silver starfighter. He was just opening the canopy when a stream of blue blasterfire shot overhead.

Sixteen clones burst onto the landing pad as Grievous whirled around, pulling out his two remaining lightsabers and igniting them. The clones opened fire straight away, their helmeted faces showing no emotion. Grievous reacted in a split second; his mechanical reflexes allowed his to deflect blaster bolts.

Grievous quickly knocked bolt after bolt into each clone, killing some and wounding others. He advanced into the ranks of the clones, cutting them down as Obi-Wan had done to the droids.

The clone trooper Jay, fighting with his squad, was the fourth to take a deflected blaster bolt. He'd been firing his DC-15 rifle on full automatic, but Grievous had batted every bolt away with his two lightsabers. Grievous had cut down Jay's squad leader and a further four clones, and deflected blaster bolts into another three before batting a sizzling blue laser back into Jay. The clone was hit in the gut, and the bolt managed to tear through his armour, into his intestines, and back out of the other side. He groaned and gurgled, feeling the fiery hot pain that shot out from the wound. Stumbling backwards, he dropped his rifle, his hands going to the hole in his armour, which was now gushing crimson blood at a terrific rate. Already he felt light-headed from blood-loss, and he would soon be unconscious.

The blackness that appeared around the edges of Jay's vision was a sure sign of impending unconsciousness and death. Jay didn't really care; he would've before, but the blood-loss had changed the way he thought.

It made death seem trivial.

_Some people say their lives flash before their eyes when they're about to die… _Jay thought, frowning. _I suppose I don't, because I've never really had a life. It was Kamino, and that was just training, learning, eating and sleeping. And then I was deployed, to Geonosis, then Raxus Prime, then Naboo, Haruun Kal, Rhen Var, Ord Cestus, Jabiim, Aargonar, Brentaal IV, Praesitlyn, Deco Neimodia, Cato Neimodia, Coruscant, and now here. _With those thoughts, Jay passed out as his blood flow from his wounds slowed.

Grievous calmly cut the legs from the last clone trooper and kicked him off the landing pad and into the sinkhole. He turned and hurried back towards his starfighter, one lightsaber still out and buzzing just in case.

Anakin sensed the death of the first few clones, and the determination of General Grievous.

"Master, Grievous is there!" he roared, pointing towards a landing pad just visible across the sinkhole, maybe five hundred metres away. Flashes of blue blasterfire and lightsaber blades were clearly visible.

"Anakin, don't do anything rash," warned Obi-Wan, but it was too late. Anakin had already taken off at a Force-powered sprint in the direction of the landing pad, ignoring the vast chasm between the core ship and the landing pad. The particle shields were disabled, as the clones had captured most of the core ship, so Anakin was free to jump.

Although Obi-Wan didn't think he'd make the leap.

Anakin allowed his rage to fly through him. He gnashed his teeth and ignited his lightsaber, focusing solely on making the Force throw him onto the landing pad. He allowed his black hatred for Grievous to bubble through, bent his knees, and leapt into the air.

Obi-Wan watched as Anakin sailed up into the air. Anakin wasn't having any problems; he was definitely going to reach Grievous in that single leap. At the start of the war, Obi-Wan would've been surprised, but now he knew that Anakin could do almost anything with the Force. He sighed; there was no way Obi-Wan could make the jump, but his starfighter was still a few catwalks above him.

Obi-Wan climbed into his starfighter, and raised it off the ground. He turned it around, and pushed the throttles forward. The ship leapt forward, shooting out of the core ship. Obi-Wan eased the control yoke around to face the landing pad. He could see flashes of blue and green lightsabers, and he knew Anakin had arrived.

Anakin battled the General towards the end of the landing pad. Grievous was just centimetres away from a terrible fall. His mechanical talons dug into the landing pad to stop himself from being pushed back under Anakin's attack.

But the mechanical claws wouldn't help.

Anakin moved deftly, and his lightsaber came up in a sweeping arc that severed Grievous's right leg and left arm. The General sharply adjusted his balance, standing precariously on one leg and fighting with the one arm and one lightsaber he still possessed. Anakin's lightsaber met Grievous's in a flash of blue and green sparks, and the General knew he was dead. He looked into the dark blue eyes of Anakin Skywalker, and saw a tinge of yellow. What Grievous really saw in those eyes, however, was a cold promise of a painful death.

And, for the first time since his brain had been unknowingly altered to encourage anger and shun fear, General Grievous was terrified.

Obi-Wan lined up his cannons behind Grievous, frowning. The powerful blasters on his ship would rip through Grievous and kill Anakin if he fired, so Obi-Wan settled to fight with his sabre.

Obi-Wan swung his starfighter in to land, putting down just a few feet behind Anakin. He popped the canopy and leapt out, not even taking out his lightsaber.

Anakin screamed with rage. Grievous's defence was incredible; obviously he knew he couldn't win the duel, and so settled to simply defend. Anakin gnashed his teeth again in a foul grimace, and decided to end Grievous.

Anakin swung a blow so hard that Grievous's sabre locked fast on Anakin's, both blades high above their heads. Anakin's foul grimace grew wider, and changed to a bitter smile that savoured victory. He then took control of the Force with his mind, expanding his consciousness into the landing pad, looking for a weak spot…

_There! _

Anakin screamed as the power he used reached incredible levels. Using the Force so much, particularly in such a dark way, was causing his skin to go pale and his eyes to turn yellow. He pushed, and the landing pad began to crack at his feet. It started to swing away, with Anakin on the steady side, Grievous on the side that was about to fall into the sinkhole.

_He has to die! Or millions more innocents will, _thought Anakin.

Blue lightning crackled and appeared on Anakin's left hand. His mechanical hand merely short circuited, but Anakin's Force grip kept it clamped onto his sabre hilt.

Anakin screamed again, and lightning crackled forward and leapt from his left hand, its blue bolts racing forward at odd angles to strike Grievous. The General howled as his life-support systems began to short-circuit. Anakin let go of his sabre, and it deactivated, toppling into the sinkhole. A second later, Grievous followed, his body still ringed with a horrible blue cage of lightning.

Obi-Wan's jaw dropped as he saw his best friend use the most reviled, the most forbidden Force-power known to the Jedi.

Anakin turned to face Obi-Wan, the younger Jedi's face wrinkled and pale, his eyes glowing a fierce yellow ringed with crimson.

"_I'm sorry," _mouthed Anakin, and then he collapsed.

Obi-Wan pushed the use of the dark side away out of his mind when he saw his best friend collapse before his eyes. He raced over, feeling Anakin's torment in the Force. It was as if something, some hound of the dark side, was eating him from the inside out. Something was happening; even though Obi-Wan knew fine and well that Anakin's rage did frequently get out of hand, he also knew that Anakin would never allow those dark emotions to assume control of his mind, body and actions the way they'd did just seconds ago.

Obi-Wan knelt by Anakin, reaching into the Force and sending its healing power into Anakin. Obi-Wan was no Jedi-medic, but he did know that Anakin was suffering form something mere bacta packs or medical kits couldn't repair. He continued to pour the healing energy of the light side into Anakin, feeling the younger Jedi's spirit starting to fight off whatever black infection was plaguing it.

"Help! Medic!" A voice, weak and pained, came from behind Obi-Wan. The Jedi turned, to see a clone trooper, bent forward on his knees hacking and trying to slow the trickle of blood falling from a blaster wound in front of his gut.

Obi-Wan felt guilty for leaving Anakin, but the Jedi Knight wasn't in any immediate danger. Leaving the former slave, who'd started to groan from some horrible nightmare, he moved over to the clone.

Delving into the clone's utility belt, Obi-Wan pulled out a medical kit. Selecting a painkiller, roll of bandages and blood loss fluids, Obi-Wan went to work, injecting the clone with painkillers, then blood-loss control fluids, before bandaging the wound to prevent any further blood-loss. The clone groaned as Obi-Wan pulled off the trooper's upper armour plate to finish bandaging the wound. The clone's condition was stabilising, but he was still in serious danger of dying unless a Rimsoo (a republic medical ship) was brought to him so he could take a bath in the healing fluid of bacta.

Pulling out his comlink, Obi-Wan keyed in the Rimsoo frequency.

"This is General Obi-Wan Kenobi. Get a Rimsoo to my location now. Track the location through this transmission. A bacta tank, blood replacement, synthetic skin and maybe a psychological-repair droid as well," Obi-Wan grimaced at ordering the droid for his best friend; the psychological repair droids were usually called loony-fixers, but Anakin might need one after what he'd done. Obi-Wan pondered if he'd ever be able to look his friend in the face again, after what Anakin had done. "And inform Commander Cody that General Grievous may be dead, but we've not found a body. He may be armed with a blaster and one lightsaber, but if he's alive he's heavily damaged, with only one arm and one leg, probably with an electrical overload and suffering from damage after a fall of maybe three hundred metres. Do you copy?"

"Copy, General," It was the blank voice of a clone trooper. "ETA for the Rimsoo is five minutes. We're currently subjugating resistance in the area; the droids are on the run, and some of the locals have agreed to help us as well; so don't stab anyone who's seven foot tall and has a wrinkly grey face, or someone who's four foot tall and resembles a Gamorrean pig. We could use some Jedi… Are you and General Skywalker able to enter combat?" asked the trooper.

"No… Anakin's down with something psychological… Something only a Jedi might be able to fix. But bring the psychological-repair droid; it might be able to help. I'll need to help Anakin as well, so you'll have to do it on your own."

"Copy that. The Rimsoo is inbound."

Supreme Chancellor Palpatine sat alone in the blue-hued office room he used when taking holographic transmissions. He sat on a tall-backed leather chair, surrounded by multiple holoprojectors. Behind him was a large curving window, similar to the one he had in his public office, which was just down the corridor which lead out from his room. However, the Chancellor wasn't to be disturbed; the door to his private office was sealed shut, with codes only his lead guard knew.

Palpatine was deep in the Force. He wore a long, black cloak that enfolded him totally, even his head was hooded to the point where only his wrinkled, lower face could be seen. Just in front of him, was the crackling blue hologram of Nute Gunray, a horrible, wrinkled Neimodian who was usually grey in the face but was now turning pink from fear. Darth Sidious, the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic, smiled.

"But, Lord Sidious!" Nute Gunray was saying in his distinctive Neimodian voice. "We can't breach the Republic blockade without risking detection" Gunray, wearing long robes and a massive headrest, was shaking and rubbing his hands nervously.

"A fleet is inbound to distract the Republic ships whilst you make your escape," Sidious leaned forward menacingly. Even though the Neimodian and he were thousands of light-years apart, the Neimodian still recoiled in fear. "I hope I am not making a mistake in saving you, Gunray. You have shown nothing but cowardice over the last three years. It would not be the first time I've considered throwing you to the Gundarks," Sidious hissed out the last word, and Gunray bowed quickly and sloppily.

"Of course, my Lord. But I would never fail you! Ever! Gunray, out!"

Sidious twisted his face in disgust. Neimodians, like all nonhumans, were disgusting creatures. But when Sidious's new Galactic Empire came into existence, the nonhumans of the galaxy would be cast down, used only as slaves for the benefit of the New Order. The wealth of the alien creatures would be taken into the hands and banks of the only people who could be trusted with it.

Humans!

The biggest holoprojector, the one that had just shown Gunray, bleeped, a small yellow button on its curved surface flashing. Sidious quickly threw down his hood, becoming the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Senate, wise old Palpatine, once more. He put on the face of a tired honest old man, the face that had kept many of the Republic's citizens who would otherwise have despaired, in check.

Palpatine reached out and pushed the flashing yellow button. At once, the blue hued hologram of the Koruun Jedi Master, Mace Windu, rose up from the projector, his dark face a mask of steely determination.

"Master Windu," Palpatine smiled. "For what reason do I have the pleasure?"

"Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, we've received word from Commander Cody that General Grievous is missing in action, and believed dead. Now would be the best time to start up negotiations with the Confederacy of Independent Systems!" Mace Windu cut right to the point, his eyes smouldering in determination.

_Ah, he suspects me, _thought Palpatine gleefully; by the time he had concrete evidence on the matter and tried to act on it, it would be too late.

"I'm afraid not Master Windu. That would involve effectively acknowledging the Confederacy as a legitimate government. I've said it once, and I'm afraid to say it again, the Senate and I will not accept anything less than a full and unconditional surrender from the Separatists!"

Mace Windu nodded, his face muscles tightening in anger. "So be it. After we've confirmed Grievous is dead, we'll focus on finding the Separatist leaders, and capturing them; without the political head of Count Dooku, and the military mastermind that was General; Grievous, the Separatists will crumble soon; there's no chance of escape now."

_Political head?_ Palpatine laughed inwardly at the irony. Windu obviously didn't know that Anakin had decapitated the aging Sith Lord, Dooku.

"Of course. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have much paperwork," With that, Palpatine deactivated the holoprojector, and laughed a victorious howl of joy. The mocking laughter subsided, and Palpatine returned to the business that he'd been attending to before Gunray had interrupted him.

Palpatine smiled, submerged once more in the Force. He drew upon images that he conjured into his head... Of Senator Padmé Amidala, lying, sprawled on the light blue floor of her apartment, her face pale, her chest not rising and falling, not breathing… Blood trickled from her mouth, and her eyes were wide and staring, her pupils and irises just specks of colour in the vast white of her eyes that surrounded them. A charred wound, the wound of a lightsaber, was running down her slightly bumped, pregnant belly. Of course, the image was only a figment of Palpatine's imagination, but, to Anakin, who received the image unconsciously as Palpatine stealthily projected it into his mind using the power of the dark side, it was terribly real. To Anakin, it would seem that his wife had been killed by a lightsaber-wielding Jedi.

Anakin awoke from the horrible dream he'd been having, his brow wet from the sweat that flowed from his pores. He'd had a dream-vision, like the one's he'd had about his mother before she died.

Padmé was going to die, at the hands of someone who wielded a lightsaber.

Darth Sidious!

Anakin realized, in one, horrible thought, that Darth Sidious must have wanted his wife dead. There was no other explanation for the lightsaber wound he believed would kill her.

_Unless a Jedi… _Anakin pushed the horrific thought away to the back of his mind. But he had to get back to Coruscant, to protect Padmé. He'd promised himself, after his mother's death, that he'd never be too late to save the life of a loved one again.

And it was time to fulfil that promise.

Anakin sat up, realising he was in one of the six medical beds that sat in the medical centre of a Rimsoo. The beds were clean and white, and mainly occupied by troopers wounded by blasterfire. A couple of troopers sat with amputated legs or lightsaber wounds from General Grievous, no doubt.

Obi-Wan stepped into the bay through the door that lead to the cockpit. The Rimsoo buffeted suddenly, sending Obi-Wan skidding forward on the smooth floor. The Jedi regained his balance, saw Anakin and shuffled over uncomfortably. Anakin looked down at the floor, not able to meet his friend in the eye.

Anakin was still wearing his Jedi robes, damp from sweat and grime. His sleeve was charred where a droid had just missed him as he battled towards the core ship to help Obi-Wan.

A familiar dome-topped astromech rolled into the room, chirping and bleeping. Anakin looked up as R2-D2 rolled towards him. Anakin hadn't even noticed that the little droid had went missing; of course, he'd been too busy fighting droids and then grievous to keep an eye on everything.

Judging by the score of a near-hit on Artoo's right leg, and the fact that his power looked dangerously drained, Anakin concluded that Artoo had probably been off fighting battle droids with his variety of tools that could be used as weapons, such as his electrical extender arm. Obi-Wan looked at the droid with a hint of distaste, and shook his head.

"How many droids did you get this time, Artoo?" asked Anakin, breaking the uneasy silence that followed when Obi-Wan was faced with the task of speaking to Anakin.

The droid bleeped a positive four.

Obi-Wan sighed and turned to Anakin. Anakin braced himself… He was positive he was about to be thrown from the Jedi Order, outcast and disgraced.

"Anakin. We're at war. We need every Jedi we can get. Powerful ones, most of all. You may be the most powerful of us all; even Masters Yoda and Windu acknowledge it. But you must control your anger. I won't report this to the Council, but if you don't keep your anger in check, it will destroy you. I think it almost did," Obi-Wan's eyes were serious, but caring. Anakin didn't dare mention that he hadn't collapsed because of his anger, because Obi-Wan would never understand just how much he loved Padmé, how he needed her.

Obi-Wan, no, the Council, would force Anakin to either give up his marriage, which he couldn't, or leave the Jedi Order, which he couldn't do when the galaxy was in so much danger. So Anakin just nodded.

Obi-Wan watched Anakin for a few seconds, before speaking again. "We didn't find General Grievous's body. How he escaped, if he did of course, is hard to imagine, considering he'd be suffering from a two kilometre fall, electrical damage, and has only one arm and one leg," Obi-Wan smiled briefly. "And you weren't wrong in saying you were going to rip the durasteel from his exoskeleton," Anakin half-smiled, but no mirth reached his eyes.


	3. The Jedi Choice

Chapter 3

The Jedi Choice

The Rimsoo headed for space, jinking wildly through a storm of red plasma that criss-crossed all around it. The remnants of the droid force, taking to space in Vulture droids and Techno-Union Starfighters, were embarking on suicide missions, blazing their way through squadrons of starfighters and smashing themselves into the Republic Star Destroyers. Anakin and Obi-Wan stood just behind the Rimsoo's pilot, looking out through the forward viewports. So far, none of the Star Destroyers had taken any serious damage, and there were only a hundred enemy fighters still fighting.

Anakin grimaced. His face had returned to normal, and his eyes had lost their yellow-hue. His mechanical arm had came back online, although it was a little crispy, as Anakin put it. "I should be on the ground mopping up the resistance!" he said, frowning.

"Yes, I know you'd like that. And I'd prefer it to this ride back to the Star Destroyer. But did you forget you dropped your lightsaber down the sinkhole?" said Obi-Wan dryly.

Realisation dawned on Anakin's face. "And you didn't summon it back up?"

"No. I was just a bit busy… You know, tending to a couple of wounded clone troopers, and yourself," Obi-Wan had meant to sound nonchalant in a brotherly way, but it'd come out a bit harsh, and he instantly regretted trying to make the joke.

After a few seconds of angered silence, Anakin suddenly perked up. "Master! Look!"

With a burst of white light that indicated that ships were reverting from hyperspace to realspace, four _Providence _class Separatist Destroyers appeared off the Republic fleet's port bow. The enemy Destroyers, similar to the _Invisible Hand, _opened fire straight away, their heavy turbolasers sending needles of thick green energy into the Star Destroyers. And, suddenly, the sensor-blip of a _Sheathipede _class shuttle appeared, racing out from Utapau. The Separatist leaders' shuttle!

"Bring us in to the nearest Star Destroyer! Now!" snapped Obi-Wan. The clone pilot obeyed, flying straight into the long hangar of a _Venator. _

Anakin and Obi-Wan dashed out of the Rimsoo, not even stopping to offer an explanation the surprised clone pilots on the flight deck.

Anakin leapt fifty feet and landed in the open cockpit of a blue Jedi Interceptor. The pilot who had been about to enter his ship stared as Anakin keyed the controls and gunned the fighter's engines, closing the canopy and shooting out of the hangar. Obi-Wan followed in a V-19 Torrent fighter/bomber that he'd commandeered from two surprised clones.

Anakin pushed the throttles well past their overload stops and primed the laser cannons of his fighter. The shuttle was rapidly nearing the edge of Utapau's gravity well; as soon as it cleared the gravitational pull, the shuttle would jump to hyperspace and escape.

Anakin opened fire when he was one hundred thousand kilometres away. The heavily armoured shuttle jinked, dodging many of the blasts and absorbing the rest on its powerful shields.

Obi-Wan rocketed past in his heavy V-19 Torrent. The fighter/bomber was incredibly fast, but not very manoeuvrable.

At fifty thousand kilometres away, Obi-Wan fired two of his Torrent's proton torpedoes. The blue drive trails of the torpedoes trailed as the powerful missiles angled to hit the enemy shuttle.

The shuttle pulled up at the last second, and deployed a missile countermeasure. The proton torpedoes flew off target, zooming away into space.

_C'MON! I CAN END THE WAR! _Anakin's thoughts roared in his ears as he raced forward, stitching space with his laser cannons.

An alarm suddenly bleeped, and Anakin threw his fighter into an evasive barrel-roll, just missing the stream of laser blasts that came from the sixty Tri-fighters on his tail. A full five squadrons! The commander of the enemy fleet had obviously decided that Nute Gunray and his cronies were worth more than an entire wing of droid fighters; but it wasn't so much the leaders that the Separatists needed, it was the wealth and technology that the leaders controlled.

"Master!" Anakin screamed the word into his comlink on an open channel. "You go after the shuttle. I'll take these guys."

Anakin half-looped his fighter and shot towards the enemy fighters, pulling rapid evasive manoeuvres and firing. His wildly manoeuvring spacecraft dodged every laser sent this way, and blew eight Tri-fighters out of the sky before one lucky laser shot ripping into the Jedi Interceptor's right wing, blowing off the right control surfaces.

Anakin's fighter went into a sudden, stomach-churning spiral, descending rapidly. The stars outside his fighter blurred, and the battle between the fleets seemed to spin around Anakin, though in fact, it was he who was spinning. Fire trailed from the remnants of his right wing, fed by concentrated oxygen that was escaping from the fighter's six day supply of air.

Obi-Wan felt Anakin's sudden distress through the Force. The Jedi Master didn't even flinch, but his mind screamed at him.

_I can save Anakin, or I can kill the Separatists! H_e didn't have time to do both; CIS fighters were already circling around Anakin's fighter.

The Jedi choice would've been, of course, to destroy the shuttle. Anakin had swore an oath of selfless service to the Republic; he would be expected to lay down his life to kill the Separatist leaders. But Obi-Wan's choice, a friend's choice, a mentor's choice, was to go and rescue his best friend.

Obi-Wan's mind screamed at him to keep going, to kill the Separatists, but his heart screamed louder, to turn around and save his former padawan.

Obi-Wan's hands, white-knuckled, clutched the control-sticks. He could hear Anakin scream curses on the comm.

Checking the sensors, Obi-Wan saw that the Separatists were twenty seconds away from breaching the gravity well in the slow, but well-armoured shuttle. Obi-Wan would reach optimal accuracy range in five, but he didn't think he could destroy the shuttle in just fifteen seconds.

So he gritted his teeth and fired the last of his proton torpedoes at the shuttle, and performed a half-loop, racing up and back towards Anakin, firing needles of blue lasers at the Separatist fighters that circled his best friend like vultures.

Anakin cursed as his lock-on warning blared just by his ear. A horrible feeling of helplessness that made him want to shriek welled up inside him. _So this is the end!_

Anakin closed his eyes and let go of his anger, at peace by the end. He saw the bright flash of a laser through his eyelids, and saw the angry glare of an explosion.

_Ten _explosions.

The lock-on warning had ceased, and Anakin opened his eyes. All around him, Tri-fighters were exploding from pin-point fire coming from a V-19 Torrent fighter/bomber which was heading towards Anakin at a respectable fraction of lightspeed. Out of the fifty two Tri-fighters that'd remained after Anakin's attack, only twenty were still flying.

_Obi-Wan! _Anakin thought, grinning. He could feel his master, a well of Force-power so deep and so full that even Master Yoda couldn't have been able to match the power that stemmed from Obi-Wan Kenobi, who was, without a doubt, the Ultimate Jedi ever to live.

The last Tri-fighter exploded, its evasive manoeuvres proving futile to dodge the flurry of blue cannon-fire that had engulfed it. Obi-Wan's fighter/bomber, slowing down as it passed Anakin, went into a roll of celebration; Obi-Wan must've felt elated, because even the slightest appliance of G-force usually made the Jedi Master's face turn green and his knees shake.

"You made the friend choice?" said Anakin; he was so attuned to Obi-Wan's mind that he all but knew Obi-Wan's thoughts.

"No, Anakin. I made the Jedi Choice. I saved a life; I didn't maim and kill. It makes a change in this war," Obi-Wan said the last sentence with a tinge of sadness.

"Master," Anakin said after a pause.

"Yes, Anakin?" Obi-Wan said.

"Thanks. Just, thanks," It was the greatest measure of gratitude Anakin had ever showed to Obi-Wan for three years; Anakin usually solved his own problems in the war, and saved Obi-Wan's life, not vice-versa.

Jay's eyes fluttered open in the medical bay of the _Venator _class Star Destroyer _Incorruptible. _The sickly sweet smell of bacta the slimy blue medical fluid that had been hailed as a miracle since the year it was discovered, three thousand years ago, hung thick in the air. Jay struggled to sit up, but found he was restrained to the clean and comfortable white bed he lay on. _Probably so I don't mess up my wound anymore… _

All in all, Jay was shocked to be alive. He was sure he'd died at the hands of General Grievous, but, then again, his armour had probably protected him until a medical ship arrived.

Turning slightly, Jay looked at the bed next to him, and instantly felt pity. A fellow clone trooper lay on the bed, the charred stumps where his arms and legs should've been spurting blood.

"Med-droid! Med-droid!" Jay screamed. Instantly, an IM-6 medical droid rolled over and spoke in its calm, melodic voice.

"Yes sir?"

"Why isn't that trooper receiving treatment?" barked Jay; he was no officer, but without his armour plates and insignia as a private, the droid wouldn't know that.

"Triage X," The droid said calmly, and rolled away.

Triage X; too badly injured, unlikely to survive. Tears welled up in Jay's eyes at the injustice of it. He rolled over to face his _Vode, _his brother.

Jay recognised the clone's younger face; a newer batch of troops. "I'm sorry, _Vod'ika!" J_ay said sadly, speaking the Mando'a (Mandalorian language)for little brother to the dying clone, calling him his little brother.

"Thanks, _Vode._"


	4. The Stalemate on Kashyyyk

Chapter 4

The Stalemate on Kashyyyk

Yoda's gnarled green face creased even more in an expression of disappointment. he looked down at the ensuing battle with his large, oval brown eyes, tapping his gimer stick rhythmically against the wooden floor. Down below, on the beaches of Kachihro, clones ands Wookies fought desperately with the Separatist droid armies that raced across the murky grey waters of the Kachihro Lake and engaged the Republic forces. Yoda overlooked the battle from the carved out inside of a young Wroshyr tree. The tree, being young, was only a hundred metres tall, unlike fully grown trees, which were usually between four kilometres and a hundred kilometres tall.

The battle raged on, and in most areas of the conflict, the clones held their positions in the trenches dug in the white sand. Clone Artillery troopers, carrying Plex rocket launchers and proton grenades, held Separatist armoured vehicles at bay with the help of LAAT/I Republic gunships, Republic walkers, tanks, and heavy turrets. High above the ground battle, Separatist gunships, Tri-fighters, Vulture droids, and Scarab fighters were in a turning dogfight with Republic V-19s, Jedi Interceptors, ARC-170s, and V-wings.

But, in the area just below Yoda, the Separatists had advanced steadily, breaking through the clone trooper line with SBDs (super-battle droids) and Destroyer Droids. The weaker B1 Battle Droids followed in the wake of their more advanced counterparts.

Clone Commander Gree, wearing the camouflaged armour that the clones had chosen to wear to Kashyyyk, raced up beside Yoda and spoke quickly. "General. We've successfully held back the assault in all quadrants, with the exception of Alpha and Sarlaac," Alpha quadrant was the quadrant that Yoda and Gree were in. "The Sarlaac troops are recovering, but approximately two hundred SBDs, four hundred B1s, and fifty Destroyer Droids are at the base of the tree. We've ordered reinforcements, but all of our troops are still bogged down in the defence, and thee are no free gunships to use in an air-strike!"

"Hear, and understand, I do, Commander. Engage the droids personally, we _must!_" Yoda tapped his Gimer stick for emphasis. "Men, how many, do we have, Commander?"

"We've got two hundred troopers, ten Artillery Troopers, four Jet Troopers, and a commando squad. And a few Wookies," Gree added as an afterthought. "I suppose they count as about ten Artillery Troopers!"

"Indeed," said Yoda, and he turned to face the two Wookies who stood behind him. The tall inhabitants of Kashyyyk are all covered in fur, and these two were no exception. The tallest of the two, Tarrful, was covered in shaggy dark brown fur, and carried a Bowcaster. A Bowcaster is a unique weapon, used mainly be Wookies, that are similar to crossbows, and fire small metal quarrels, rimmed with laser energy, into targets. They're insanely powerful, but need reloading after just five shots.

The shorter Wookie, Chewbacca, had shorter fur that was light brown, dark green, and blonde. He wore a bandoleer of quarrels for his Bowcaster, and had startling blue eyes.

"Chewbacca, Tarrful. Accompany me to the bottom of the tree, please if you."

The Wookies roared an affirmative in their language, and shouldered their bowcasters. Yoda smiled, and opened himself to the Living Force, feeling its power energies flow through his small frame as he reached into his coarse white cloak, and produced a small lightsaber.

The sixty-six centimetre tall Jedi Master's face hardened as he ignited his sabre, sending brilliant slivers of green light dancing across the Wookies' fur.

Yoda screamed as he raced down the stairs cut into the middle of the tree. He bounded out of the carved doorway, and his green, three-toed feet landed on the white sand. The Jedi Master harnessing the power of the Force, flipped forward suddenly, his sabre whirling as it caught blaster bolts fired in his direction and pinged them back into the SBDs that fired them. Clone troopers, crouching in cover all around him, opened fire, downing a few SBDs and perhaps fifty B1 battle droids. No Destroyer Droid fell.

Yoda leapt forward into a spinning cartwheel, his short blade weaving a green pattern as he landed in front of the advanced SBDs. He advanced, cutting down ten SBDs with ever five strokes, dropping the imposing blue droids to the ground effortlessly as he dodged and deflecting laser fire.

Yoda dropped into a crouch as a blue blaster bolt shot over head, downing the last SBD. Now, all that was left were two Destroyer Droids (Artillery Troopers had taken care of the other Destroyers) and most of the B1s had been ripped apart by the Wookies. A final pair of blasts from Plex rocket launchers took out the Destroyer Droids, and the last battle droid's head had been ripped off by Chewbacca. Its body collapsed as its head, repeating 'Roger, roger' over and over, bounced away.

"Commander Gree!" Yoda turned just to see the Commander walking towards him.

"Yes, General?"

"Order all reserve forces to reinforce both here and Sarlaac quadrant. A status report, I would like, also."

"Yes sir," Gree paused to relay the orders with his helmet comlink, and then spoke again. "Quadrants Bacta through to Epsilon are secure. Sarlaac Quadrant is being reinforced, and all other positions are currently mopping up the remnants of the Sep' forces. We should be able to take the fight to the enemy in a few hours."

"Excellent, that is, Commander. Master Vos and Master Unduli to begin loading all troopers who are not needed in battle into gunships, instruct them; establish a forward command post near the enemy base in two hours, we will. Launch an attack in eight hours, we shall. Now, rest Commander. May the Force be with you."

"And with you, General."

Anakin's fighter's spin had slowed to a slight turn, and the LAAT/C (a cargo variant of the famous LAAT/I Republic Gunship) had flown through the battle to pick him up. The gunship had flown back through the battle, using metallic clamps to hold the Jedi Interceptor in place, and deposited Anakin in the flagship of the Republic fleet.

The battle with the Separatist Destroyers was ongoing, but the Republic seemed to have the edge. The enemy had already lost one of their Destroyers, whereas all five of the Republic's Star Destroyers were still intact. Now the Republic really had the edge. They outgunned the Separatists, and had more fighters than them. The only reason why the Separatists hadn't been destroyed was that the _Providence _class Destroyers that they fielded had incredibly thick armour. No Separatist reinforcements had been detected incoming, and a Republic fleet of ten six-hundred metre long Dreadnaught Heavy Cruisers were inbound. The Dreadnaught class of ships were old and quite small compared to modern battleships, but they had a large amount of firepower and were thickly armoured, although their shields were weak and their starfighter complement was small.

Anakin stepped onto the bridge, a grim set to his face. The Separatist shuttle had escaped, although a full squadron of ARC-170 fighter/bombers had jumped to hyperspace in pursuit. Anakin knew that the odds of finding the Separatist leaders in the shuttle, which was incredibly fast in hyperspace, indeed, twice as fast as the ARC-170s, were more than a hundred to one.

Obi-Wan smiled as Anakin surveyed the bridge. Anakin's grim expression loosened a little, but he was anything but cheery. So far, the battle was well in the favour of the Republic, and the Dreadnaughts' ETA was just five minutes, but Anakin felt a smouldering anger with himself because he'd allowed himself to take a hit, and Obi-Wan had had to come and save him, allowing the Separatists to escape. The thought made Anakin grind his teeth.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan smiled. "Look what one of our teams searching for General Grievous's corpse found," he thrown Anakin a familiar looking cylinder.

Anakin's lightsaber!

It brought a smile to Anakin's face, at least. "Thanks."

"Oh, don't thank me. It's the clones who found it you have to thank."

"Yeah…" Anakin said but his mind was elsewhere. Another of the Separatist's Destroyers had exploded, snapped in half by concentrated turbolaser bombardment. It reminded Anakin of how he'd managed to pilot the wreckage of the _Invisible Hand _safely down to Coruscant.

Just a few minutes later, there was a burst of white light from behind the Separatist ships, and ten Dreadnaught Heavy Cruisers with Republic markings appeared, opening fire on the Separatist ships. The Dreadnaughts were six hundred metres long, tube-shaped, and sturdy, with multiple 'weapons blisters' bulging out of the hull, home to many turbolaser batteries. The Dreadnaughts were using the element of surprise to their advantage; they concentrated all their fire on just one enemy Destroyer, catching it off guard and destroying it before it could react by shooting into the fuel chambers with a concentrated barrage. The remaining three Separatist Destroyers were now caught in a net; they couldn't retreat back into Separatist space, as the Dreadnaughts had moved into a net formation that would prevent the enemy ships from escaping without spending minutes going around the net, and probably losing their engines to concentrated bombardment as they fruitlessly tried to flee. Their only other viable escape route, into neutral space, was blocked by the _Venator _Star Destroyers. If the Separatists jumped to hyperspace in any other direction, they would go into Republic space, and would be tracked without a doubt.

The Separatists were well and truly beaten.

So they decided to take three _Venators _with them into death.

Yoda smiled a little upon hearing that the forward command post had been secured without a problem. The Separatist base was basically a landed _Lucrehulk _class Ring Carrier, with its core ship being used as a command centre. The forward command post had been established as an _Acclamator _class Republic Assault Ship, the Star Destroyer-like ships that had served with distinction on Geonosis. The Assault Ship was sheltered from enemy fire by a tall ridge, which the ship had landed right next to. It was also defended by ninety gunships, four hundred fighters, and nearly a thousand armoured vehicles, such as Juggernaut Tanks, and nine thousand clone troopers. The enemy droid strength at their command centre was believed to be about two million; the earlier droid assault had compromised of an equal number, so the Separatists had foolishly wasted half of their main Kashyyyk forces in a failed assault. Yoda had only two hundred thousand clone troopers on Kashyyyk, but their overall efficiency in combat meant that the Republic force and the Separatist army were evenly matched, despite the fact that the latter outnumbered the former ten to one. And, with the fifty thousand Wookies fighting with the Republic thrown into the equation, along with the vastly superior number of Republic fighters, and three Jedi Masters on the planet, the Republic were the firm favourites to win the battle.

"General Yoda!" Gree's voice was filled with frustration as he raced up to Yoda.

"Yes, Commander," The wise old Jedi said.

"The Separatists have activated at least a dozen Grade A shield generators around their Command Centre. We don't have any vehicles that can get through the shields and our Star Destroyers can't pierce the barrier with their turbolasers. An infantry assault would be useless; they've still got all their tanks _inside _the shield. We're in a stalemate, sir!"

"Heard and understood, that is. How many Republic Commandos are on Kashyyk, I ask?" said Yoda, frowning.

"Approximately nine squads of four."

"To take out the eight shield generators in the most strategic positions, assign eight of the squads. One in reserve, we must keep. With only four shield generators online, Star Destroyer bombardment, undeterred, it will be!" Yoda said, frowning.

"Roger, General!"


	5. Thoughts of the Masters

Chapter 5

Thoughts of the Masters

Mace Windu massaged his shiny, bald head, furrowing his brow and grunting as he moved his hand over his head to the slow rhythm of his heart. He'd been meditating for the past hour, alone in the Council Chamber, but a dark cloud had descended on the Force yet again, and his head ached from meditating in the darkness. Ahead, the Coruscant skyline succeeded in being both beautiful and ugly, awe inspiring yet starkly normal when compared to the rest of the large city-planet. The sun was rising, sending streaks and flecks of gold and crimson into the cloudy skies. A faint drizzle of rain drummed against the Council Chamber's large viewports, slightly blurring the view into the skyline yonder.

Mace Windu sensed the approach of the Kel Dor Jedi Master Plo Koon minutes before the Council Chamber's doors emitted an almost inaudible hiss and slid open. Mace turned and slowly nodded at the tall, silent and brooding Jedi Master as he walked gracefully over to stand next to Mace without saying so much as a word in his gravely, baritone Kel Dor voice.

Plo Koon clasped his hands behind his back, and then his posture, usually upright and rigid, seemed to sag. He released his hands, and they swung slowly by his side, their wrinkled beige skin darkening, indicating the Kel Dor's grief and despair.

Mace observed Plo carefully. The Kel Dor's lower face and mouth was, as usual, covered by a large black mask designed to keep oxygen away from the Jedi Master's oxygen intolerant heart and nitrogen absorbers. But the rest of the Kel Dor's face, shaped like a human's with the exception of no nose and two large circles where ears should've been, was clearly visible. Its skin was bumpy; a sign of Plo's healthy and thick hide.

"I felt it too," Plo said in his deep voice, which sounded like a gong being sounded over a scratchy intercom.

Mace nodded gravely, and saw his grim, foreboding reflection. For a split second, he wondered how many years it'd been since he'd last smiled. Probably more than a decade. But then that thought was gone, and he focused again on the disturbance in the Force.

"Yes. Our clone search parties in the Works _still _haven't found Lord Sidious. We have traced him to Five-Hundred Republica, though," Mace frowned; a mechno-chair found by Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker during the subjugation of Cato Neimodia had set Mace, several clones, and Shaak Ti on a search through the abandoned industrial area of the Works, looking for Sidious. They hadn't found the ever elusive Sith Lord, but they did find a secret passage leading into the basement of 500 Republica, the exclusive building where Senators, government officials, and Supreme Chancellor Palpatine himself held residence, heightening the three year old suspicion that Darth Sidious controlled the Galactic Senate, and manipulated the war to that very day. Mace had been forced to keep the search a secret from Palpatine, in case the Chancellor unknowingly passed on the knowledge to Sidious, who probably already knew about his pursuit, anyway, but no risks could be taken.

"I do not think that we'll ever find Sidious," Master Koon said sadly, bowing his head.

"I don't think we should despair," Mace replied icily. "Provided that we keep looking, and maintain constant vigilance, we will find Sidious; it's just a case of narrowing the net around him until we've trapped him."

There was a long, uneasy silence. "And then what, Mace? We cannot execute Sidious, it is against our ways," Plo, despite being very aggressive, deplored the thought of murder, but shuddered uneasily when Mace's eyes flashed angrily. "If he truly does control the Senate, then he'll be in charge of the courts and the bureaucrats; he'll never be taken into custody," Plo paused and sighed, the sound coming out very scratchy. "What then, Mace?" he repeated.

Mace straightened up. "We'll think about that when the time comes, Plo."

Plo nodded slowly. "I imagine you've had the same thought of me… Could Sidious be in control of the Separatist armies? Could he have ordered the attack on Coruscant to keep the Jedi from discovering him?"

Mace shook his head, although Plo's analysis was correct. "I don't think so. The Separatist cause looks dire already, and their flotillas are already being decimated. Such a loss of their man- and droidpower, wouldn't be necessary to distract us."

"And do we even know if Sidious exists?" Plo asked slowly. Mace gasped, but for an instant only; he regained his calm, if intense, exterior again. What Plo had just voiced was the fear of every Jedi who knew of Sidious. Could he be nothing more than a ploy to distract the Jedi whilst someone else, someone with devastating schemes, plotted to destroy the order? Could the dark cloud that enveloped the Force be coming from something else entirely than the Sith? That would probably explain why, even with Dooku's death, the Balance of the Force hadn't shifted back towards the Light Side, had only shrunk deeper into the shadows of the Dark Side.

Mace spoke evenly and without visible emotion, but Plo could sense the turmoil brewing inside the human. "If that is true, then all of our efforts have been for nothing."

"And the Jedi Order will surely topple into the abyss…"

There was yet another long silence, punctuated only by the distant whine of an airspeeder flying past. Mace's heavy, laboured breath, induced by his sudden fear of losing the Jedi order that he loved, was drowned out by the sound.

"We should consult Master Yoda on this. The whole Council," Plo said, straightening back up into his borderline-military pose.

Mace nodded evenly, and wrapped his fingers together. He then squeezed so hard that all of his knuckles popped in unison, and the sound echoed in the near-empty chamber. "I agree. We shall call a Council Meeting in the morning. As soon as Ki-Adi-Mundi, Master Yoda, and Obi-Wan Kenobi are available. When are you returning to Deco Neimodia?" Mace asked.

Plo shrugged; he'd been given leave of approximately four days from mopping up Trade federation resistance in the Neimodia system. "I can't say. Possibly tomorrow, possibly next week… Whenever I'm needed."

"Good," Mace said softly. "Get in contact with Ki-Adi Mundi—" Mace was cut off, as if on cue, by the sound of the Council, Chamber's door opening.

Mace and Plo turned in unison to see the green, fish-like head of Kit Fisto, whose brain tails fell in a messy tangle behind him. The Jedi Master's huge orb-like obsidian eyes were narrow in a Nautolan expression of worry.

"Master Windu!" he said, his oddly distorted voice sounding as if it was coming from under water, rather fitting for a Nautolan, a species who lived on water worlds.

"Yes, Kit?"

"It's Master Mundi, sir! He's been captured on Mygeeto. The Separatists are holding him for ransom!"

Mace and Plo both froze for a split second, before leaping to their feet, hearts pounding. They moved off at a jog towards the main communication's room, their stomachs somersaulting…


	6. Pain of the Brothers

Chapter Six

Pain of the Brothers

Mace stood, stony-faced, in the dark holo-room. A blue hologram hovered in the centre of the room, casting ghostly shadows.

There, kneeling on the uneven, stony ground depicted in the hologram, was a Jedi Master with wizened features and a white beard. He was a Cerean, and as such he had two brains, which resulted in a tall cone protruding from the top of his bald head. Apart from that, he simply looked like an elderly human. On his wrinkled face was an expression of the deepest, blackest despair Mace had ever seen. The very thought of what had caused Ki-Adi Mundi to react like that made Mace shudder. Mace's face betrayed no emotion, but the Jedi Master was terrified for the life of his friend.

In the background of the picture, three Droidekas were visible, and six B2 super battle droids. A Geonosian spoke, his brown, insect-like body bounding up and down with every word.

"As you can see, we have the third in command of the Jedi Order," The Geonosian race usually spoke in clicks and whirrs, so the Geonosian's Basic accent was an unusual sound. "We also have news from our agents that General Grievous is alive on Utapau."

Mace exchanged a look with Plo.

"If you should happen to capture the General, we expect him to be returned immediately, or after receiving necessary medical care; he should be treated as any other POW. If we receive word from our many, many spies, that the general has been captured, and the Republic does not inform us, General Mundi will undergo the most comprehensive torture regime known to the Geonosian race."

The hologram zoomed in on Mundi, whose face was suddenly contorted by pain. Mace's eyes widened just slightly as they saw a tiny, thin laser-beam burning into Mundi's right eye. The eye burst, sending blue-tinged gore splattering across the hologram. Mundi winced in pain and slumped to the ground, a cry of anguish and agony escaping his mouth.

No words could explain what Mace felt.

Anakin pounded his fist on the control console, his face etched with worry.

"Order them to abandon ship! Now!" he roared, and he continued to pace up and down the bridge.

The _Venator_ Star Destroyer on the port side of Anakin and Obi-Wan's flagship finally succumbed to heavy fire. The brilliantly bright green streaks that were enemy turbolasers punched through then the ship's formidable armour. A thousand explosions blossomed from the inside of the ship.

The very tip of the ship disappeared under a barrage of proton torpedoes and concussion missiles. Molten wreckage was blasted in all directions as yet more turbolaser shots from the enemy opened huge, gaping holes in the Star Destroyer's hull. Bodies, flash-frozen by the decompression, tumbled into space.

A trio of turbolaser blasts punched into the two bridges, destroying them in a brilliant fireball.

The last barrage was aimed at the bottom of the bridge tower's. Enemy turbolasers vaporised durasteel, metal, wires, plastic, and flesh on their journey to the Star Destroyer's reactor.

The Star Destroyer went nova. The white flash that followed the reactor's explosion blinded Anakin for a nanosecond, and when he could see again he saw the entire aft section of the ship, smashed bridge towers, engines, wings, everything, disappear in the ever-expanding fireball.

The front half of the ship floated away, explosions tearing it apart from the inside out as it began the slow tumble into Utapau's atmosphere, where it finally exploded, like a great firework in the dusk sky.

Tears of anger filled Anakin's eyes, blurring his vision, which was rapidly turning red-hued from anger. The remaining two Separatist cruisers were fighting like cornered Rancors. The other Separatist cruisers were destroyed, although one had attempted to crash into Anakin's Star Destroyer as the Separatist cruiser entered its death throes. But well placed gunnery had vaporised the enemy cruiser long before it endangered Anakin and Obi-Wan.

Another Separatist battleship exploded, and the remaining four Star Destroyers turned their guns on the last enemy capital ship. The shields on the mighty war-craft flickered, becoming a visible blue storm around the ship for a nano-second, before disappearing. Turbolasers, concussion missiles, and proton torpedoes streaked into the ship's bow hull, smashing through the armour and detonating the ship's main fuel depot in a maelstrom of multicoloured energy beams, and missile trails. The ship's remnants were suddenly blasted back about two kilometres before, with finally, comforting certainty, rupturing fuel lines and delayed-detonation warheads reduced the mighty ship into a scattering of atoms.

Anakin panted heavily, his chest heaving. He curled his mechanical arm into a tight fist, listening to stressed metal as it screeched in protest. An inhuman roar escaped his gnashed teeth and pursed lips, and he slammed his prosthesis arm down on the arm of a gunner lieutenant's seat, snapping the thick durasteel arm clean off and sending it skidding across the bridge. The clones said nothing, and just got on with their work at the consoles. Anakin looked around, eyes narrowed, daring one of the troops to say something in disapproval. For once, he suddenly forgot that the clones weren't programmed; they were real people.

The only noise was the bleep of systems coming back online.

Anakin's breathing slowed, and he tried to control his anger. _There is no emotion: there is peace. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no death, there is the Force. _Three selected lines from the Jedi Code washed over him, but did nothing to soothe him. Lapsing into his white-hot fury, which burned like a supernova, he wanted to scream the words 'lies'. The code was a lie. One big lie. There was emotion; although, at that time, Anakin only felt fury at losing his men. There was passion, of course; how else could Padmé and he love each other? And of course there was death, and it wasn't the Force; the pain and suffering of dying beings only fuelled the Dark Side, which was a perversion of the Force.

Anakin suddenly froze; the Dark Side was a perversion, and yet he called upon it in almost every battle. With droids, with Dooku, with Grievous… His rage was an integral part in his war-prowess.

But the Separatist ground forces, as well as their fleet, had been destroyed; news had arrived from the surface, saying that the clones on the ground had subjugated the last Separatist resistance pockets. From a politician's view, the campaign to neutralise General Grievous had drawn to a resoundingly successful close. The deaths of thousands of clones were insignificant; the war was virtually over. But Anakin still felt the pain and suffering, lingering where the destroyed mighty Republic Star Destroyers had once proudly flown and battled, like a bad aftertaste; a hangover.

But, with the knowledge that the campaign was over, there was jubilation in Anakin's heart. He would be returning to Coruscant! And after a tedious speech on the holonet, no doubt, Anakin would be free to visit Padmé, free to finally leave the Jedi Order and reveal his marriage, now that the Galaxy was again functioning with peace, security, order and justice.

How wrong he would be.

Anakin turned to see Obi-Wan, a look of disapproval characterised by the down-turned corners of his mouth visible under his strong beard.

"There was no need to break the chair Anakin," Obi-Wan said solemnly, although his eyes betrayed his sense of joy.

The two stood there of for a few seconds in what would've seemed like uncomfortable silence to the untrained eye, but was actually Anakin and Obi-Wan's little joke.

The two moved suddenly, without warning, with a shout. They raced forward and shook hands, grinning, slapping each other on the back.

The war was over!

After so much pain, and so much unnecessary loss, so much destruction, and so many deaths, the war was finally over. And then, as if following the two Jedi's lead, the clones in the bridge suddenly began to turn and celebrate with each other, roaring their approval.

The two Jedi, the brilliant partnership, had succeeded.

The war was over; without Grievous, the CIS would fall apart!

Long live the Galactic Republic!

Anakin grinned and looked at Obi-Wan, his mentor and friend, again, and saw tears in the blue eyes of his long-time confidant. Obi-Wan was so happy to see peace; he was a greater Jedi than Anakin could ever hope to be. For a brief second, Anakin felt out of his depth; not in terms of power, as Anakin was a greater warrior than Obi-Wan, but in wisdom, in serenity.

But then the fleeting feeling was gone, and the celebrating began.

"Right!" Obi-Wan bellowed, laughing and raising a hand. "Set a course for Coruscant; we're going home!" A deafening chorus of approval shook the bridge. "And when we get back, drinks are on me!"

The roar was even louder that time. Clones were whipping their helmets off and shouting triumphantly in basic and Mandalorian.

Anakin added to Obi-Wan's speech in a stage-whisper. "Master, the last time you had a drink, you cut someone's arm off!"

The clones laughed a little, but Obi-Wan's expression faltered; that'd been in the prelude of the war, shortly before the clone army had been discovered. But then the grin returned, and the celebrations went on as fighters flew into Star Destroyer hangars, and the comm was filled with shouts of triumph, mingling with tears at lost friends.

Suddenly, twelve ARC-170s swooped up, flying past the bridge viewports in a blur of red and white, and then swooped back, stopping dead in front of the viewports and waggling their wings in salute to the two Jedi Generals, before racing off again.

Long live the Republic!

A minuet later, the entire clone ground army and starfighter force had returned to the Star Destroyers, and the hangar bay doors swung shut. All pilots who'd ejected from their stricken craft had been rescued, and the wreckage of the battle would be cleaned up later by a battle-analysis team.

The Star Destroyers jumped to hyperspace in unison, the screech of the hyperdrive sounding like the song of an angel. He was returning to Coruscant, to see Padmé! He sobered, remembering his vision but he was jerked back to the celebrations by a wounded clone trooper with a few bandages on his chest rushing over to shake Anakin and Obi-Wans' hands. He identified himself as Jay, a trooper who'd been rescued by the Rimsoo called in by General Kenobi.

Half an hour later, Anakin found himself standing alone, apart from three clones, in the communications room. The vast room's dim, white light was flecked with the multicoloured glows of buttons and screens. A holoprojector, a wide, bowl-like object made of metal, sat in the middle of the room. Anakin stared, unseeing, into it. All he could think about was his vision. He had to get home to Coruscant. He had to save Padmé.

The holoprojector crackled once, and Anakin's eyes suddenly darted to the clone manning the device. The clone, wearing his white armour but no helmet, reached out and hit a button. Instantly, a blue-hued figure floated out of the bowl.

Mace Windu's holographic image was tinged blue, but the anger in the Master's eyes was still visible.

"Anakin," Windu spoke quietly, almost inaudibly, but the rage in the words seemed to magnify the sound, "The Council have a message for you and Master Kenobi; a message of utmost importance."

Anakin was taken aback, but he nodded slowly. He didn't even bother to contemplate what the transmission would contain; all he cared about, all he could even think about was getting back to Coruscant. Getting back to Padmé

"Yes, Master," Anakin's face hid his excitement almost completely; the only giveaway was the slight twitch of his jaw muscles.

"Ki-Adi Mundi has—"

Master Windu's image suddenly flickered, becoming a thousand scrambled blue pixels. Then the image vanished with a white flash. The clones in the room looked up, their helmets hiding the looks of confusion on their faces.

And then the lights flickered, their white light dimming and then dying completely.

The room was plunged into darkness, and then there was a horrendous, screeching sound. Anakin reached into the Force, his mind suddenly alert. He soon realised that the ship had dropped out of hyperspace; a hyper-mine (a space mine that would use an artificial gravity well to pull a passing ship out of hyperspace), perhaps?

Anakin had to find out.

Just as Anakin burst onto the bridge, which was filled with talking clone troops, the emergency lighting kicked in, bathing the bridge in harsh yellow light. A clone was stooped over his sensor readout; Commander Cody stood behind him. Anakin strode over quickly, trying not to look as flustered about being stopped as he felt.

"Commander!" Anakin failed to keep the desperate urgency in his voice. If Cody noticed, his features were unreadable.

"Yes sir?"

"What just happened?" Anakin's question wasn't inquisitive; it was nothing short of a demand. Again, Cody seemed unfazed.

"It was a hyper-mine. It disabled some of our basic systems when it pulled us out of hyperspace, too: lighting, holo projectors, and food processors."

"Are there any ships in the area?"

"Yes sir. A _Theta _class light shuttle. Republic make. We've managed to discern its ID; it's the one that went missing half a year ago, with Asajj Ventress and Advanced Recon Commando Alpha on board."

Anakin froze suddenly, his body becoming a tall, motionless mass of tense and rigid muscle. His face was suddenly ashen, his eyes wide and terrified. His jaw worked as if he was trying desperately to say something.

Ventress! Dooku's apprentice. The bald, white-skinned alien who'd wielded two lightsabers. The Dark Jedi. The one who'd scarred Anakin's cheeks so many months ago.

But Anakin cared about none of that; as far as Republic Intelligence had been able to discern, Asajj Ventress had been unconscious after being captured; she was being transferred to Coruscant for questioning by an ARC clone. Then, the shuttle had gone missing in transit. Asajj Ventress hadn't returned to the CIS, or been heard from again.

Anakin didn't care. Only one, frozen image, swam into his vision, which had become blurred and unfocused.

The image of Padmé. Padmé, with a lightsaber wound.

"Is the shuttle in tractor beam range?" barked Anakin. His suddenly hoarse voice seemed to fill the entire bridge with its booming, echoing command. Cody flinched, something Anakin had never seen before.

"Yes sir."

"Bring it in! Now!" Anakin's voice was almost a scream. He didn't care. His head was swimming. But he knew, in his bowels, in his _heart, _that he had to kill Asajj Ventress.

He'd been foolish to imagine that the Jedi would touch Padmé. She'd long stood by them. But Ventress! Surely Ventress would kill Padmé if she got the chance! Anakin had injured the deranged Dark Jedi many times. If she somehow knew about Anakin's marriage…

"Should we open fire, sir?" asked Cody.

"No!" yelled Anakin. Ventress had escaped many such attempts on her life with subtle, wily tricks and sheer luck. Anakin wanted to kill her, irrevocably and for certain, with his own blade.

Cody raised an eyebrow as Anakin suddenly turned and raced out of the bridge. The tractor beam officer was already carrying out his orders.

The shuttle itself was a dull silver colour, with a rounded front and an array of weapons. It had three stubby wings; two on the lower corners of the fuselage, and one, slightly bigger wing sticking straight up from the top of the fuselage. Its hull was covered in scrapes, and blackened dents. The paintwork was scratched and grazed; a large, dark scar no doubt caused by a laser marked the side of the main cabin.

The ship's pilot, no doubt aware of her peril, had swung into a sluggish banking turn. But it was already too late.

Inside the Star Destroyer, the hangar bay doors slid open soundlessly, an atmospheric shield engaging to stop any clones or ships being sucked into the cold vacuum. Then, a distant hum started, which soon became an incessant whine, as an invisible tractor beam shot out, towards the fleeing shuttle, which was instantly ensnared by the force beam.

Slowly, but surely, the shuttle was dragged into the hangar bay. Then it was manoeuvred into the bay, and dropped with a metallic clang into an empty spot in the hangar. With a hiss, the rear boarding hatch slid open, and a ramp slowly lowered itself down, like a snake's tongue tasting the air.

Just two hundred metres away, a turbolift door slid open.

Anakin Skywalker stood in the lift, his face red faced with rage, his cloak billowing in the windy blast from engines being tested.

His eyes were glowing a fierce orange.

And, in his right hand, a right hand constructed of metal motors, wires, and joints, encased in a black glove, there was a lightsaber.

Anakin's eyes, those horribly, insanely infuriated orange eyes, held the promise of murder, just as they had held that promise when Dooku had knelt, defeated, maimed, begging for his life. Just as they'd promised General Grievous that he would die, as Anakin had held and defeated the general under a barrage of hate-fuelled, crackling blue lightning.

Just as they had when he'd faced Ventress for the first time, on the jungle moon of Yavin.

_Snap-hiss._

The sky blue blade of Anakin's weapon spat into existence. Anakin raised it and strode slowly forward, like a mindless automaton, marching towards what was his sole purpose…


	7. A Contast, and a Mirror Image

A/N: So, what do you think so far?

Chapter Seven

A Contrast, and a Mirror.

Anakin strode forward, oblivious to the stares of the clones all around him. His lightsaber hummed and wavered, as if it was sniffing the oily air for prey. The only sound apart from the hum was the slight clang as the hangar doors slid shut.

This is Anakin Skywalker. Hero of the masses. Idol of the younglings. Protégé of Palpatine. Symbol of the Republic. The warrior. The lover. The pod racer. The pilot. The most loyal man in the galaxy

He is everything, yet he is nothing.

He is nothing, not because he's a lesser warrior than anyone else; his skills with a sabre are virtually unmatched. Not because he is weak; his Force powers are akin to Yoda's. Not because he is too calm; his rage consumes him constantly, like a tornado battering at a homestead.

He is nothing, because he is terrified.

He remembers the day that he stood in front of the Jedi Council, just a young slave boy, just nine years old. He remembers the freezing temperature of Coruscant, the smell of various aliens.

But most of all he remembers the stare of Yoda. The piercing stare that could see into Anakin's very soul, the stare that could see the tiny larvae of fear growing inside him.

The rage that was tipping the galaxy inexorably towards the dark side.

The fear in Anakin's stomach had once been like a larvae; small, wriggling, insignificant. But over the years, it had grown, until it had become a Rancor, a massive, roaring beast of pure terror that threatens to consume him with every second.

A Rancor that had fully matured in a camp full of Tusken Raiders. A Rancor that had fully matured as Anakin realised that he'd come too late to save his mother; that he'd been simply too slow, too indecisive, bending to the will of the Council rather than trusting his feelings.

That is what makes Anakin Skywalker nothing. The memory of weeping over his mother's broken body.

And the fear of coming too late to save his friends is what makes Anakin Skywalker everything. That permission, that animal need to use his rage, to turn it into a vicious metaphorical lightsaber that would destroy any foe, so that he would never be too late, so that he would never be too weak to save those that he loves.

So that he would never be too late to save Palpatine. So that he would never be too late to save Obi-Wan. So that he would never be too late to save Padmé.

So that he would never be too late to save his unborn child.

But, that fear is what makes him everything. The fear that spawned the rage had then been engulfed; the fury had created a nuclear shelter around the fear, locking away the fear.

But, at night, the shelter weakens. Sometimes it cracks. Sometimes the fear makes Anakin awake in a cold sweat, his hand reaching out to feel for Padmé's pulse, to cry out her name as he realises he's on the other side of the galaxy from her.

But, at that moment, Anakin is everything. He has to be.

Because, if he's not everything, if he's not all powerful, he might fail. He might lose Padmé. So he is everything. He has no other choice.

Of course, being all powerful is impossible. But, for Anakin Skywalker, the impossible has an eerie way of being merely difficult.

If Anakin is faced with something impossible, with a friend's life depending on the outcome, like the moment when the _Invisible Hand _had plunged towards Coruscant, Anakin decides to do the impossible thing anyway.

That is what makes Anakin Skywalker the so-called 'Hero With No Fear'. Because he has fear, he has rage, which nullifies the threat of his fear.

The Hero With No Fear stopped his slow advance five metres away from the battered shuttle's hatch. He reached into the Force, probing…

He found Asajj Ventress. He could clearly picture him in his mind's eye. Her large, white, bald head, with its strange tattoos and black, staring eyes… Her thin, but strong body, her mouth twisted in a leer, her hands curled around the curved handles of two crimson lightsabers…

But there was something different about Ventress in the Force, at that time. Anakin remembered her as a fiery, furious presence, filled with nothing but blind, animal hatred towards the Jedi.

But she was different at that moment.

She was a cold, detached presence. Anakin detected dread, and defeatism. Despair. Asajj Ventress obviously had no intention to fight; she would surrender, trusting to the Jedi's mercy.

Anakin mused over that for a split second. He mused over that single thought, then decided he didn't care.

The Force suddenly presented him with a vision.

_Asajj Ventress was kneeling on the ground, panting, her shoulders arched, her body defeated. A stab wound occupied the space where her liver had once been. Anakin stood above her, emotionless, his eyes cold, detached. His sabre was humming, its sapphire blade hovering a centimetre away from Ventress's pale, offered neck. There was a tiny pause, and then the sabre passed through Ventress's neck so fast that the blade appeared to stretch._

_Ventress's neck sizzled and glowed orange as it was flicked into the air, tumbling down onto the hangar's deck. It bounced a few times, and rolled away, before coming to stop against a white-robed… Body?_

_The white-robed body of Obi-Wan Kenobi, who lay, his cold, dead hands clutching the lightsaber wound that had chewed away his heart… _

Anakin was jerked back to the present, his mind reeling, his mouth dry. Of course! Why hadn't he even considered it! Obi-Wan would try to intervene to stop Anakin as soon as the young Jedi attempted to kill the surrendering Ventress… It all made sense in a most horrific manner. Anakin's speeding mind somehow realised that he had to kill Ventress immediately, before Obi-Wan arrived. Anakin knew he couldn't kill his best friend, unless he was threatening Padmé.

Which, in a way, he might. If the vision came true, Obi-Wan would be threatening Padmé by trying to save Ventress… It all made a twisted sort of sense!

So Anakin stepped forward, just as Asajj Ventress emerged from the shuttle.

Ventress didn't step from the shuttle; she stumbled. Her body was even thinner than before; her features drawn, haunted and gaunt. Her lips were colourless, and her clothes mere rags.

But, on her belt, two curved lightsabers still hung in place.

Anakin snarled, his lips parting in a gesture of animal hate. He then stepped forward, raising his lightsaber up for the kill, staring down at his helpless victim, who hadn't even looked up…

Exactly two minutes before Anakin arrived on the hangar bay, Obi-Wan Kenobi, standing in the engine room, overseeing repairs, had sensed Anakin's raw anticipation. He'd also sensed Ventress, and got the misinformed but correct impression that Anakin was going to kill Ventress. Obi-Wan hazarded a guess why; Ventress had been personally responsible for the slaughter of many Jedi, thousands of clones, and billions of innocent civilians, both Separatist and Republic.

So Obi-Wan smiled calmly, serenely, and started walking briskly towards the turbolift.

This is Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He is selfless, courageous, gracious, modest, humble, polite, cheery, and the best friend Anakin Skywalker could hope for.

Obi-Wan Kenobi is the sum of all contrasts. The brilliant warrior who'd prefer to talk situations out. The awe-inspiring pilot who hates flying. The incredible negotiator, who, frankly, would rather sit, alone, on an uninhabited planet and meditate on his own. He is the only Jedi in the Order who could possibly fight a Sith Lord without calling upon even a hint of anger, the only Jedi who's never even considered the Dark Side's powers as seductive.

In short, he is a Jedi extraordinaire. He is the best at everything a Jedi should be. His powers are overshadowed only by Anakin's and Yoda's. Yet he never uses them for anything other than the greater good. He can immerse himself so completely in the Force that he becomes the Force entirely; his body, the thing that calls himself Obi-Wan Kenobi, is nothing but a collection of molecules, of atoms, that form loosely together to create a human. When he speaks, sometimes he's not speaking; sometimes it is the very Will of the Force. When he engages in combat, he does so reluctantly, but without hesitation. He puts himself in the Eye of the Storm that is the anger that engulfs all conflict, releasing his passion, his emotions, and becomes a pure being in the metaphorical sense. He becomes an angel, in certain ways.

He regrets that he is usually, in the war, the Angel of Death.

He knows that, should he die, whether at the hands of a blaster bolt, a lightsaber, an electrostaff, a fall, or some other exotic weapon or natural occurrence, he will transform into the Force.

That is what makes him a Jedi.

But he's more than the perfect Jedi.

He is Anakin Skywalker's best friend.

Obi-Wan Kenobi is the type of man that could be everyone's friend. He has no bad qualities. The only thing that stops him from being loved by the whole galaxy is his ideals. The fact that he's personally hewn down millions of battle droids earns him the permanent resentment of every Separatist Loyalist in the galaxy.

But Obi-Wan doesn't care. Because to him, every life is valuable. And every life he takes, is only with a deep, bitter regret. This is why he goes to the help of Asajj Ventress, a war criminal, an evil, corrupted soul, with no hesitation.

Because he's a Jedi. That is what he does.

Anakin stood above Ventress, and was about to slash downwards, to end Ventress's twisted, corrupt life, when he stopped. Yet another vision flashed through his mind.

_Anakin, duelling Obi-Wan on Naboo. Anakin, killing four Jedi alongside Durge. Anakin, bowing to Dooku. Anakin, slaughtering Padawans on Jabiim. Anakin, killing. Anakin, killing. Anakin, killing… _

Anakin faltered, confusion flashing across his face. He'd seen himself, in that vision, doing many things that Ventress had done.

And then he realised the purpose of that vision.

In slaughtering his helpless, surrendering opponent, he would become just a mirror image of Ventress.

"Get up," barked Anakin. His voice was harsh; his rage hadn't faded at all, but his method for dealing with Ventress had.

Ventress looked up for the first time; her formerly cold eyes were streaked with tears. She looked startled, but obeyed.

Once she got to her feet, Anakin reached out with his free hand, and plucked one of Ventress's sabres from the Dark Jedi's belt. Then, he pressed the sabre's cold, metal handle into Ventress's right hand.

"I'm going to kill you now," hissed Anakin… He'd done enough. He'd given Ventress a weapon, something to defend herself with.

The rest, was entirely up to Ventress…


	8. A Dark Path Beckons

Chapter Eight

A Dark Path Beckons

Anakin's lips parted in a snarl that would've scared a Sand Panther, and he struck downwards with his blade. The blue bar of sizzling energy hummed as it raced down towards Ventress's skull.

_Anakin! No!_

A voice from the past, a voice that seemed to emanate from inside Anakin's very skull, stopped the young Jedi's swing. Instead of using his sabre to burn through Asajj Ventress's skull, Anakin shunted his blade far to the left, just avoiding maiming or killing the Rattaki Dark Jedi.

The voice of Qui-Gon Jinn had stayed Anakin's hand.

"Master Jinn?" whispered Anakin. Suddenly, the young Jedi was dizzy. He stumbled to the side, his hand loose on his blade. Qui-Gon had spoken to him from beyond the grave twice; once, begging hum futilely to stop as he slaughtered Tusken Raiders, and again on Praesitlyn when he'd been about to execute a Separatist General.

_Anakin. The Force is too strong to be used for anything but good. Let go of your hate, and be wary of P—_

But Anakin's rage had returned, full force, and Qui-Gon's voice had vanished instantly, like a scream being drowned out by rushing water.

Anakin's mind was once again focused on the task at hand. He tightened his grip on his lightsaber, and refocused his vision, just in time to see Ventress throw herself at Anakin, her crimson sabre ignited and swinging towards Skywalker's chest.

Anakin brought his blade up, and ruby energy met sapphire energy in a hissing and sparking fight.

Anakin kicked out, his booted foot meeting Ventress's jaw, catching the Rattaki off balance as the Dark Jedi tried to recover from the fierce block. Ventress flew back from the power of the kick, just as the clones nearest the two combatants in the hangar brought up their blasters and fired.

Ventress flipped in mid-air, her sabre weaving through an impossibly fast series of twists and strikes to deflect every blue blast of energy that came her way. Seventeen clones dropped to the ground, killed or wounded by their own deflected fire.

"Hold your fire!" roared Anakin, "She's mine!"

The clones stopped firing instantly, and Anakin thrust forward his left hand. Instantly, Ventress's controlled fall became a chaotic, bullet-like acceleration; the Dark Jedi had been hit by Anakin's Force-push.

Ventress barely had time to curl into a protective ball before she hit a large ARC-170, smashing into the fighter-bomber's port hull. The hull dented under the force of the impact, and the ship skidded a few metres backwards on its landing skids. Ventress slumped to the ground, her eyes vacant. Anakin seized the opportunity, hurling his lightsaber at Ventress's fallen form; the sabre flew forward, its course straight and fast, the tip of the blade aiming for Ventress's right eye.

Anakin's sabre was almost at Ventress's face when there was a surge in the Force. Anakin's sabre flew just off target, burying itself in the wall of the hangar instead of burning Ventress's brain into ashes.

"Obi-Wan!" screamed Anakin, whirling, his eyes wide and panicky.

Obi-Wan stood in front of the hangar bays main turbolift, his face set in an expression of utmost disapproval. His lightsaber still hung on his belt, and Obi-Wan's hands were still curled loosely by his sides.

Kenobi wasn't looking for a fight.

Anakin turned away, his head swimming; if he murdered Asajj Ventress, with Obi-Wan standing, watching, the former slave knew he would be expelled from the Jedi Order.

But who did he love more; a load of old, deliberating monks, or Padmé?

So Anakin extended his mechanical hand, and smashed it into a fist so tight the mechanical servo-motors in the arm whined in protest.

Ventress was lifted slowly, almost gently, off of the hangar's metal floor. She slowly rose into an upright position, although her head lolled to the side and her arms were limp. Then, Ventress's immobile form shuddered.

And then her immobile form suddenly jerked her knees and arms shaking wildly, her head swinging madly from side to side, deep, haggard breaths coming from her lungs; she looked and sounded as if she was being electrocuted. The crack of snapping, breaking bones filled the suddenly silent hangar, as Anakin grinned evilly.

Anakin was crushing Ventress with the Force.

_**"No!" **_Obi-Wan's voice was a command, and Anakin faltered for a brief second, giving Ventress a relief from the pain…

_Snap-hiss._

Obi-Wan raced forward, swinging his blade in a defensive arc, "Anakin! Let her go!"

"Never! She's mine," Anakin's words referred not to Ventress, but to Padmé. To allow Ventress to live was akin to killing Padmé himself.

Obi-Wan ran forward with the knowledge that he would never be able to kill Anakin. To do so would burn his heart to ash.

But he had a different plan.

Obi-Wan through himself into a leap, leaning back and aiming a two-footed kick at Anakin's mechanical arm; snapping Anakin's arm off would give Anakin an electric shock, not enough to kill him but enough to knock him out and free Ventress.

Anakin whirled around as Obi-Wan's leap reached its highest point, and faltered, staring up at his former master, tortured by sudden indecision.

In that second, Ventress struck like a cornered animal leaping at her hunter in a moment of distraction.

A pair of red sabres spat into existence, stabbing down towards Anakin's throat. But Anakin is once again the Jedi Warrior he usually was, and instead of feeling red hot blades slicing into his neck, he simply flopped backwards, and rolled away as Obi-Wan, reacting purely on instinct, ignited his blade and landed in front of Ventress.

The Dark Jedi attacked, blades weaving and dancing across Obi-Wan's sky blue patchwork of parries. Her anger was steadily returning, and her attacks quickened, but Obi-Wan merely fell back calmly, not retreating but simply redirecting the battle; it was his way. He'd done it many times.

The partnership between Anakin and Obi-Wan was suddenly rekindled.

Anakin leapt forward just as Obi-Wan mixed a touch of Ataru, the aggressive, acrobatic sabre style favoured by Yoda, into his extremely defensive Soresu. Obi-Wan leapt upwards, flipping over Ventress, binding the blade in her right hand with his own and pulling it out of line as Anakin raced forward, lightsaber angling for the kill.

Ventress twisted to the side, half-expecting Anakin to gut his former Master by mistake.

But, incredibly, Obi-Wan merely spun in mid-air so that Anakin passed harmlessly by; the Jedi Master was almost levitating!

Ventress realised, with a sinking feeling in her trio of stomachs, that Anakin and Obi-Wan had improved drastically since the last time they'd met.

She also got the impression that her chances of surviving this particular, unintentional encounter were starting to get very, _very _slim.

This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker, right now.

You are fighting with the man who's been like a father to you; you're keeping him alive and he's keeping you alive. You're surrounded by thousands of loyal clone troops, and a war that killed trillions has just ended. You're going home, to Coruscant, to celebrate the Jedi who've survived and mourn those who have died. You're fighting an opponent so effortlessly that you're not even truly fighting; you're just preparing to strike her down.

But none of that matters.

None of that matters because, right now, the opponent you're fighting is going to kill you're wife. You don't know why, you don't know when, and you don't know where. All you know is that she will kill your wife and her unborn baby. All you know is that she will kill the woman that you love more than anyone, that she will kill the woman you love so much that the fire of your love makes stars look dim.

All you know is that, if you're a second too slow, a second too late, a bit too weak, or a bit too uncertain, she'll die. And it'll be your fault. Completely. Totally. For Anakin Skywalker, everyone who's not threatening someone else must be saved. You must save everyone. Always. Most of all, your wife. And anyone who threatens her must die. End of. Asajj Ventress must die, here, and now, for Padmé to be safe. The Force has shown him the truth. He knows he must act. He knows he must act quickly and decisively. He knows that if he's just a second too late, like he was at the Tusken Camp, Padmé will die, and he will fail.

Which is why rage embraces you, which is why you embrace rage, and become swallowed in its dark arms.

Anakin swung his sabre in a vicious uppercut. Ventress blocked feebly and staggered under the weight of the blow, off-balance.

Anakin's rage smashed against his wall of restraint, cracking it ever so slightly, and Anakin's hand shot out.

Ventress was blasted off her unsteady feet and catapulted against an ARC-170 fighter. She smashed into the fighter, rending the metal. She slid forward, but stayed on her feet, blood trickling from a cut on her back.

She started forward unsteadily. Anakin raised his hand again, flicking his fingers forward dismissively. Ventress flew backward as though fired from a cannon and slammed into the ARC-170 so hard it flipped. Ventress dropped to her belly and tried to struggle to her feet. But, when she was just on her knees, Anakin tapped his forefinger against his thigh. Ventress was pushed to the floor, gasping and choking as though under a crushing weight.

Obi-Wan flipped forward, about to stop Anakin's rampage as the young Jedi snarled angrily, his lips parting in an angry sneer.

"No, Anakin!"

Anakin froze, panting heavily, the red mist that had descended over his vision slowing diluting. His lightsaber hummed and spat, hanging motionless in his right hand. His mechanical fingers tightened, as Anakin tensely considered his choices. His lightsaber handgrip squealed as the metal strained…

Anakin thumbed the activation plate, and the blade shut off with a swish. He stepped forward warily, his face stony in an attempt to hide his anger. He released his crushing grip on the Dark Jedi. Ventress looked up and closed her eyes, avoiding Anakin's imposing gaze.

"Shackle her! Now!" he barked, gesturing around and using the Force to let his voice carry into every section of the hangar bay. Eight clones raced forward and took up positions around Ventress, rifles trained on her kneeling form, whilst another two raced forward to shackle her hands and feet, whilst yet another one took her two lightsabers.

"We'll finish this later," Anakin roared, his booming voice echoing around the vast hangar, "I swear on the Force, you'll never be free again, Ventress! You're going to rot!"

"Anakin—" Obi-Wan was the picture of calmness as he grabbed Anakin's shoulder and projected soothing Force energies into the troubled Jedi, "—Don't worry. She won't escape us this time."

Anakin tensed, as if Obi-Wan had touched upon a raw nerve. The pensive Jedi Master wondered for a brief second what had his former Padawan so riled up, before leading the former slave towards the turbolift out of the hangar bay.

Anakin's body was rigid with tension, his jaw locked. Obi-Wan knew better than to ask what was wrong; Anakin would deny, deny, and deny. Even now his mouth was a grim, tight line, as if he was preparing to say 'Nothing's wrong' without meaning it.

Obi-Wan knew what would happen. He would go back to Coruscant…

Then deny, deny, and deny. He would cover for Anakin like he always had. Not because he wanted to betray the Jedi Order, not because he and Anakin were too good friends.

He did it because, if he exposed Anakin's rage, if he showed the Council, then his promise to Qui-Gon, his promise to train Anakin, to help him, to let him flourish into a great Jedi Knight, would be forfeit.

And, in Obi-Wan's mind, that would be the same as failing.


	9. Political Manoeuvreing

Chapter Nine

Political Manoeuvring

Mace Windu spoke calmly to the blue holographic image of the Chancellor, observing the politician with veiled interest. Palpatine's face was craggy, his eyes rimmed with blue circles. But his body was as tall and straight as ever, dressed in crimson robes, and his mouth was a resolute and grim line.

"I assure you, Master Windu, I fully intend to forfeit my emergency powers as soon as the war has ended; after all, I was not in favour of receiving them in the first place, as I'm sure you'll remember," Palpatine said with a ghost of a smile, "You know as well as I do that I love democracy."

_You know as well as I do, _Mace thought grimly, _that if you love anything other than power, I have not seen it._

But instead of saying what he thought, Mace bowed and said, "Yes, Chancellor. The Jedi are pleased to serve the Senate," he said, with just a hint of emphasis on the last word; Palpatine's power play was getting far too advanced, for too successful. The Republic was almost a dictatorship in everything but name.

"And I'm sure you know that they are also in favour of carrying on with the war until Nute Gunray and the Separatist Council are brought to justice," Palpatine said, his eyes unfathomable.

"Of course."

"Now… How many Jedi are returning to the Core? We need as many as we can possibly get; with Grievous dead, we can use this opportunity to rout the Separatists."

"We're extremely shorthanded," lied Mace; if Palpatine really was being watched by Sidious, he wanted to full the as-yet unseen Sith Lord into believing the Jedi were weaker than they really were, drawing him out to strike too early, "We only have about fifty experienced Jedi available; myself, Agen Kolar, Saesee Tinn, Shaak Ti, Plo Koon, Kit Fisto, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Aayla Secu—"

"Is young Skywalker about to be sent on a new assignment?" asked Palpatine.

_I knew it, _thought Mace with a hint of satisfaction; _you've got an agenda about the boy… But what? _

"Master Yoda and I believe he should be sent with Master Kenobi to liberate Master Mundi."

"I see; but perhaps he should come to Coruscant, for the time being. I'm sure Master Kenobi can handle the liberation of Master Mundi; we know he's extremely capable."

"Why do you wish to split up the most accomplished team of warriors in the Jedi Order?" Mace asked, bluntly. Sometimes, when you're playing Sabacc, you must put most of your cards on the table…

Most. But not all.

"Because Anakin is somewhat of a hero… A role-model," Palpatine said.

"When the role-model of every child on Coruscant is Anakin Skywalker, I'll worry; children should never idolise warriors, not even one of Master Yoda's stature."

To some who didn't know Mace Windu, the reference to Yoda's stature may have been taken as a pun. But, if you knew Mace Windu, you'd know it wasn't. Mace Windu doesn't joke, and hadn't joked for years.

"I agree… These are sad times," Palpatine looked down and shook his head wearily, "But it could help the public themselves; increase morale," _And support for the war, and you, Palpatine… _"You know politics. Not your favourite subject, I'm told," chuckled the old politician.

Mace ignored the light-hearted jibe, "Yes, Chancellor."

Palpatine inclined his head and the hologram flickered out of existence, instantly bathing Mace's unlit room into complete darkness.

Mace sighed and flicked on a light switch, before flopping onto his thin bed. He massaged his shiny, bald skull, deep in thought. What was Palpatine's strange, almost obsessive interest in Skywalker? It was strange, without reason…

And, when Mace Windu looked at the links between the two in the Force, the links stank of the Dark Side.

The Force, though, in those troubled times, always seemed to stink of the Dark Side.

"Ventress is secure in the prison deck," Obi-Wan said, his back to Anakin in the out-of-the-way secondary communications room. The room itself was dark, lit only by the round holoprojector in the middle which cast ghostly cyan light across the two Jedi, and the rectangle of yellow light that seeped in through the open door.

Obi-Wan pressed a button on a control panel and the door slid shut quietly. He sighed, his shoulders sagging, and turned to face Anakin, who sat on an acceleration couch.

Obi-Wan turned and took a step forward, until he was bathed in deep blue light. His features looked tired, haggard, in a way they never had before. He was emotionally stressed, worried for his best friend.

Anakin, however, looked impatient to leave the room. He was leaning back in the couch, fidgeting. Ominously, his body was a liquid mass of darkness, hidden by the deep shadow of the room.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan begun slowly, "We have to be honest with each other."

Anakin's Force-aura briefly became ridden with a deep, strange guilt, which instantly made Obi-Wan wary. But before he could probe Anakin's emotions, the powerful Jedi Knight's Force presence skulked away from his mental fingers.

"I _am _being honest with you. I just don't know what you're asking," Anakin said, a little too strongly.

"What's bothering you? Don't deny it Anakin; something's eating you, chewing away at your very soul. I can feel it, just as easily as I can feel Yoda's power, or Palpatine's scheming."

Anakin tensed suddenly, then leaned forward until his eyes gleamed in the eerie light. His face was a mass of blue and black, a very… Discomforting view.

"The Chancellor is a good man, Obi-Wan. He fights for democracy. For freedom. It's not his fault that the Senate force more and more powers into his hands; it's not his fau—"

"_Force _power into his hands?" Obi-Wan asked with a tired chuckle, "Was that a pun?"

"This is serious, Obi-Wan! Who is trying to tell you that Palpatine is a bad man? He's a hero; a champion of freedom! Why can't you and the Council see that? Are you so blind that you can't see a humble, determined old man who's trying to do the Galaxy some _good _is a hero? I'm the most powerful Jedi alive! I would sense it if he was plotting and scheming!"

"Anakin, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, waving his hand dismissively, "We can argue about the Chancellor some other time. We need to talk about _you."_

Anakin's eyes flashed angrily, but he slumped backwards into his seat obligingly, until his face was invisible again, obscured by an opaque cloud of darkness.

_Much like how the darkness seems to hide the Chancellor's true intentions, _thought Obi-Wan, unnerved by his mind's disturbing simile.

"What is it Anakin? Is it Padmé?"

Anakin's legs, the only truly visible part of his body, went taut and still.

"No, Master."

"Anakin, I can't cover for you for much longer—"

"You're not covering for _anything!_" hissed Anakin.

There was a few seconds of silence.

"Anakin. I'm very happy for you."

Anakin raised an eyebrow, "Happy for who? Obi-Wan, you're jumping at shadows. I'm just…"

"Just what?"

"Sick of everything. The fighting. The death. The war. The hopes and the dreams. The failure and the losses."

"Anakin, the war's over."

Anakin leaned forward, into the light, and his face was a mask of sheer anguish and pain, "It'll never be over. Not for me. You can live with it, Obi-Wan. You've always been a Jedi… But I… I was _normal. _I had friends, I had a mother who loved me. I had experiences. Anger, rage, jealousy, love, fear… Everything. And I've lost so much in this war. I can't shut it down… I can't sleep at night without thinking of Siri, or Eeth, or Neeja. I've lost so many friends. The war will never end for me."

Anakin stood up and strode from the room, leaving Obi-Wan to stand alone, his head bowed, his brow furrowed.

POTENTIAL:

The alleyways were dark, and a figure, as dark as the night, moved stealthily within the darkness. A billowing black cloak flowed behind his body, which was also clothed in black. The face of the shadow was also covered in black material, and the only bright thing on his form was a shiny, snub-nosed pistol, bright grey, with a big, fat suppressor protruding from the barrel. The rain battered off the figure and the gun as he swept forward.

Unlike most of the rare vampires, Draxon was very high tech; indeed, from his gun to his gadgets to his car to his black suit which protected him from the sun's painful rays. And like most vampires, he never took more than a pint of blood from each victim; a vampire always extracts his blood from the victim's face, as there are fresher nutrients up there, but those nutrients are usually drained by the first pint.

The figure didn't wait a moment. He bent down to his victim, and drained perhaps a pint of blood from his helpless victim. He pulled his cloak tightly around him, and returned the gun to his belt. He moved swiftly to a fire stair at the side of a building, and leapt dramatically to the first stairway, which had been a good three metres above the ground. He moved swiftly up the rickety metal stairs, and reached the top of the roof. He came to the edge of the building, and looked down his nose at the bustling city streets, twenty five stories below. He raised his arms, and his cloak suddenly moved upwards, connecting with his arms and turning rigid, like the wings on a vampire bat. He then leapt forward, flying off the rooftop. He glided forward, looking down on the bustling city. He soared above the citizens, sometimes just five floors above their heads. But with no light above them to reveal him, they would simply see the grey glint of his gun, which they would probably interpret as a star peeking through the clouds for a brief second.


End file.
